


Puella Magi Morty Magica

by mariachiMushroom



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Rick and Morty
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol, Animal Death, Autism, Character Death, Dirty Jokes, F/M, Magical Girls, Original Character(s), Underage Drinking, poop jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariachiMushroom/pseuds/mariachiMushroom
Summary: When a witch interrupts his Placement Day exam, Morty Smith is given the opportunity to become a magical girl and leave his ordinary life behind. Can he survive turf wars, witch attacks and his grandpa's schemes without losing his soul? Or will he fall into the dangerous allure of becoming a magical girl?





	1. Placement Day

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a crossover between Rick and Morty and Madoka. You do not need to have seen either of the source works to enjoy the story, although it will enhance your enjoyment. I've taken liberties with the magical system of Madoka to patch plot holes and such, so yes, discrepancies are deliberate :)

_Ten said we should all eat cake_  
_Nine said what kind of cake to make_  
_Three grew wheat to grind into flour_  
_Five mixed it up and baked for an hour_  
_One decorated with candy blooms_  
_Seven found the plates and knives and spoons Eight said when to eat and where_  
_Six made sure that everyone shared_  
_Four told everyone to brush their teeth_  
_And Two tidied everything nice and neat_  
 _When we work in harmony_  
_We will all have cake to eat_  

\- Childhood rhyme

It’s not every day that you’re staring down your destiny in a stack of pancakes. Beads of thick syrup covered the plate in amorphous shapes, just like the geometry problems in my practice booklet. I knew the formulas for the usual circles and triangles by heart, but the irregular ellipse stumped me. I’d have to approximate it somehow, chop off the bits sticking out and hope I got close enough.

“Morty, is there a problem with the pancakes?” my Mom asked, interrupting my thoughts. She pursed her lips, smudging her perfect lipstick.“Do you need more jam? Some nice cut melon? There’s still time to make scrambled eggs—”

“The food’s fine, Mom. I-I’m just nervous.” I slid a pancake across the syrup, hiding it from sight. “It’s going to be a long day.”

“You’ve got nothing to be worried about, champ,” said Dad, over his morning newspaper. “Everyone makes such a big deal over Placement Day, but most of the placing’s already done by now. This is just a double check, like balancing your checkbook.”

“Jerry, be serious!” insisted Mom. “This test could make the difference between Seven and Nine.”

“You’re freaking Morty out, Beth, you know he has that A-N-X-I-E-T-Y,” Dad spelled out unnecessarily, like I hadn’t gotten a B in English. “Even if Morty ends up being a Five, he’ll still be a useful and productive member of society. All numbers are needed, after all.” Like I really needed to hear that slogan again. Sure, everybody said that, but nobody really wanted to be a Three, or god forbid, a One.“Don’t worry about it, Morty. You’ll be an Eight, just like your old man, making posters and writing slogans in no time. Hungry for Apples?” Dad chuckled, his own private in-joke from a public health campaign.

“I dunno. I just know I flubbed the speech portion, that’s super important for Eights. And Jessica’s an Eight, for sure.” I slumped down in my chair. Just the mention of that name made my heart skip a beat, which, combined with my anxiety and indigestion, sent my heart bouncing like a baby with its first balloon. Jessica was beautiful, smart, nice, and most of all, beautiful.

“Your number doesn’t have to keep you two apart,” said Dad. “Nothing saying that an Eight like me can’t marry a Four. Although, I guess in high school, your mom was gunning for Ten—”

“—until she got knocked up by-by a glorified town cryer,” said a gruff male voice. Grandpa Rick, lured out of the basement by the smell of a meal, sat down at the place that that Mom always set for him, even though he only showed up half the time. One day, he turned up on our doorstep with nothing but the faded band t-shirt on his back and a mouth full of flattery for Mom. Mom let him stay in the basement ‘until he got back on his feet.’ That was a year ago.

“Coffee?” offered Mom.

“You’re an angel.” The bags under Rick’s eyes were especially pronounced this morning, as if he’d had an especially difficult day sleeping in and cursing at nothing. “Had a breakthrough this morning, on—” Rick droned on about his weird experiments, which I tuned out. All the important stuff came out of the official research labs, anyway. “Oh, and I fixed the blender. You’re welcome.” He reached for the bacon.

“Excuse me, I didn’t spend all our meat rations for some freeloader to gobble them up.” Dad pulled away the plate from under his hand. Oh no. Just what I needed, another morning argument at the Smiths.

“Dad, no, it’s fine—”

“This is brain food. Eat up, champ.” Dad up-ended the blackened, greasy strips onto my plate. We didn’t get a lot of bacon, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to look like a stick of charcoal. The burnt porky smell lingered in my nose. I’d rather had eggs, or even some soy-sage, but Dad insisted on splurging.

“It’s fine, just take it.” I pushed the plate towards Rick. “I’m not hungry.”

Rick crunched through the slices of bacon.

“Mmm, solid cooking as always, sweetie.”

“Oh, it’s nothing—”

“Don’t encourage him. I don’t spend all day slaving over a drafting table for a One to show up and freeload—”

“Rick is a Ten, Jerry,” Mom insisted. “He just took an ‘alternative career path.’”

“As if any Ten would abandon his post for the glory of shaking his ass in front of Twos and Threes. I checked and I couldn’t find a single file on Rick—”

“That’s because I’m a wild card, a-a real loose canon cop who doesn’t play by the rules.”

“Oh, now you’re saying you’re a Six?” 

“By the way, Dad,” Mom said, interrupting the conversation, “Do you have any tips for Morty’s big day? Any test taking strategies, say?” Rick chewed his piece of bacon.

“Yeah, I’ve got some advice. Don’t go.” Mom gasped. Dad looked at Rick like he’d just suggested throwing a cat into a woodchipper.

“This is the most important day of Morty’s life!” said Dad. “If he doesn’t get his Number, he won’t be able to—”

“—kiss the ass of a middle manager just for a scrap of paper that tells him how many slices of bacon he can buy? The Placement Test is a tool for telling perfectly good kids that the only thing they’re good for is waiting counters and picking up trash. It’s how the people on top stop the rabble from ripping their guts out and feeding it back to them. Morty, if you want to do something useful with your life, come with me to the basement; I-I’ll show you things that will blow your mind.” Rick looked at me expectantly, like he really expected me to spend the most important day of my life handing an old man a screwdriver.

“No way, Rick, I’m not ending up in a basement like you!” I said, with more confidence than I really felt. “I’m gonna be an Eight and marry Jessica and-and tell people to brush their teeth.”

“Atta boy, you tell ‘em,” said Dad.

“Suit yourself.” Rick picked up his plate and left, his lab coat fluttering behind him.

I returned to picking at my plate. Just a few hours of testing, and a week of waiting, and then a lifetime with Jessica. Maybe.

“Rick might live outside the system,” said Mom, “but us mortals still have to eat. Are you sure you don’t want any toast?”

“No, really, I’m fine.”

“At least have some of my special smoothie, patent pending,” said Dad, pouring me a tall glass of a gloopy green concoction. “You need to keep your energy up for the big day ahead.” The thick liquid was already separating into froth and pulp. I held my breath and gulped. The smoothie tased like blended glass clippings and concrete, sour and disconcertingly gritty. Still, I managed to choke down the entire glass. Bletch. I needed another glass of water to clear my throat.

“Look at the time, Morty,” said Mom. “You’ll be late for the bus.”

“No need for that,” said Dad. “I’ll drive you to school.”

***

Even though I could have walked to school, Dad insisted on driving me in the new car he’d gotten from his promotion to Sub-Assistant to the Vice Minister of Propaganda. I tried to use the time to take one last peek at my flashcards, but the bumping of the car, mixed with my undigested smoothie, made me nauseous. So, instead, I looked out the rolled-down windows as we drove to my school. There was a clear boundary between the white picket fences of the Eights, the duplexes and triplexes of the Sevens, and the tall apartment buildings where the other numbers lived.

The roads were quiet. An excavator was abandoned besides a partially-broken-up section of road, the Threes taking a day off to avoid disrupting the testing with their noise. If it got out that schools near construction had a different number allocation than the others, they’d never hear the end of it.

Skyscrapers rose overhead as we headed into town, blocking out the morning sun. At the end of the street towered a massive earthen mound, marker of Pyramid Park, the largest green space in the city. If only I could be headed there now, instead of to Placement Day.

My school, a utilitarian building with weather-worn concrete walls, was rapidly approaching. Dirty yellow busses lined up at the curb, unloading their human cargo. A block away, I asked Dad,

“This is close enough; can you drop me off here?”

“We’re almost there.”

“But—” I held my tongue. It was too late, anyway. My classmates were already staring at the car pulling into the bus lane. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have a dad with a company car, after all.

“Good luck, son,” said Dad. I adjusted my collar and tucked in my shirt before exiting the car. At least I could look the part of a son of an Eight. And I didn’t want to get docked character points for having a “loose manner of dressing.” Once outside, I couldn’t shake the feeling that every conversation, every chuckle and wag of the head was directed at me, the boy who had the presumption to arrive in a car, like a silent brag about how well he’d do on the placement test.

There were still a few minutes left before the test started. I really should be going to the bathroom and topping off my inkwell, but I couldn’t bring myself to enter the stuffy gymnasium a minute earlier than I needed to. I stood on my toes, scanning the sea of navy-clad students for a hint of red. Others had the same idea, hanging back and gathering into little groups on the sidewalk, like motes of dust collecting into a dust bunny. I mean, who could blame us? Once we were spit out into our little boxes, we might never see each other again.

There she was, a shock of red hair. Jessica, the love of my life, a splash of color in my gray life. I couldn’t tell you exactly what drew me to her. She wasn’t taller or slimmer or bustier than any other girl. Even her clothes were the same, the navy jacket and skirt that made up a student’s uniform. And yet, she seemed to be lit up with an internal fire, that shone through the freckles and the drab uniform.

The funny thing was, even though I had been her classmate since kindergarten, I’d only developed my crush in the past couple of weeks. One day, she was just another classmate. The next, my soulmate. Puberty really did hit like a bomb.

We only had a couple of minutes before the test. I had to at least talk to her. I pushed through my classmates, like a salmon traveling up a river to mate. My short height proved an advantage at this point, letting me duck and weave through the crowd. Closer and closer and—

“Oh, hey Morty,” Jessica said. It was then that I realized that, after all that, I had no idea what to say. “What’s up?”

“Fine!” Oh no, wrong script! Quick, pull out a compliment. “Nice-uhh—” Boobs? Way too forward. Hair? Maybe that was a creepy thing to compliment. Skin? Okay, that was definitely creepy. “Nice test today?” I squeaked. You idiot. You absolute buffoon. Jessica didn’t need a reminder of how our fate would be determined in the next few hours.

“Yeah, I totally wanted to spend six hours cooped up in a sweaty gym,” Jessica rolled her eyes. “At least we get the rest of the week off. Got any plans?”

“Oh, uhh, not really. I mean-I don’t really have anywhere I want to go. My grandpa Rick is probably going to drag me into the basement to help him out with his weird science stuff, and—” I rambled. I could feel Jessica losing interest, and yet I couldn’t stop talking.

“Morty! Jessica!” called a cheery female voice. Bursting out of a school bus was May, another classmate, waving an arm covered in dozens of colorful friendship bracelets. She was a savant at arts and crafts, but her reading and math never really caught up. I had her pegged as a Five, or a Four if they really needed someone to bedazzle dresses. May bounded up to us, her pink pendant necklace bouncing on her chest.

“I’m so glad I caught up to you. Can you believe it’s Placement Day already? Seems like just yesterday we were in kindergarten.” Jessica grinned.

“Haha, remember the time we ate those macaroni sculptures?”

“I puked glitter for a week!” May declared proudly. I clutched my belly as my stomach spasmed in sympathy.“I’ve got a gift for you. Morty, hold out your hand.” She bent over my hand, using her long brown hair like a curtain. Something scratchy touched my wrist.

“Gee, you’re not writing something on me, are you? I don’t want the proctors to think I’m cheating.”

“Nope.” She tossed her head, letting her hair flip back. Tied around my wrist was a bracelet made of yellow string bracelet with the words “May & Morty” spelled out in tiny knots. “It’s a friendship bracelet. I made one for everyone in our class. Even if we never see each other again, we’ll always be Class 2A-mates.” I rubbed my thumb over the bracelet, feeling the bumpy texture. It must have taken hours to tie all those knots. I didn’t think we were such close friends.

“Wow, uhh, thanks. Sorry, I didn’t get you anything in return. I guess I was too busy studying.”

“That’s okay. I made this big one with everyone’s name,” she said, pointing out the lanyard holding her pendant up. “As long as you remember me, that’s good enough. I made one for you too, Jessica,” she said, offering her a green bracelet. “I didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“Oh my gosh, May, that’s so sweet.” Before Jessica could take the bracelet, a hand reached over and plucked it away.

“What have we here?” The newcomer, a girl with short-cropped blonde hair, loomed half a head over the rest of us. Her uniform was impeccable, with a bright amber pin shining on her chest.

“Hey, give that back!”

“Come get it.” The blonde dangled the bracelet over May’s head, lowering it, then yanking it out of the way when May leapt for it.

“Jessica, don’t be distracted by these plebeians,” said another girl, this one Asian with her hair done up with a hairpin topped with a dark blue gem. “Too much idle chatter and you’ll be late forour impending assessments.” I had studied enough vocabulary to know when I was being insulted.

“Who the heck are you two?” They certainly weren’t from Class 2A.

“Jennifer Wu,” said the Asian girl with a sneer. “My father is the head planner for the entire district.”

“Julia Mann. While your daddy has his ass in a cubicle, my dad’s keeping the streets in order.” So, a puffed-up Ten wannabe and her Sixish thug. “We’re Jessica’s friends.”

“Her best friends,” Jennifer stated.

“But I thought I was Jessica’s best friend,” said May.

“Friends don’t let friends wear tacky garbage.” Julia tossed the friendship bracelet over May’s head and Jennifer plucked it out of the air. “What’s this made of, packing string colored with sharpie?” Jennifer sniffed. “Jessica has such delicate skin, you’re liable to give her a rash.”

“Yeah, ya trying to sabotage Jessica’s Placement?” sneered Julia. “She’ll get docked for sure if there’s marker stains all over her wrist.”

“You guys are just mean! You’re not going to listen to them, right, Jessica?” May pleaded. Jessica held her elbow.

“Sorry, May,I’ve already got a bracelet.” She turned to the side. “And, well, the rules say that a student can only wear one piece of jewelry.” The green gem on her wrist darkened a hair, although I’m sure it was just a trick of the light.

“I don’t remember that rule—”

“She’s right,” I interjected, “Jessica. I mean. About the rule.” Jessica’s face broke out in relief.

“You heard the boy,” said Jennifer. “Such a waste of good packing twine.” She flicked her hand, tossing the bracelet away like a piece of trash. The green bracelet lay in the dust, like a little cutting of vine withering away in the sun.

May’s lip quivered. She snatched the bracelet off the ground, than ran off in the opposite direction of the gym.

“Umm, good luck on the test!” Jessica called after her. “You too, Morty,” she said to me, as an afterthought. Jennifer pulled out an elegant pocket watch, much thinner than my dad’s.

“Look at the time,” she said, “the exam starts in three minutes. Come along, Jessica, we can’t be late.” Rich of her to say, considering they were the ones who delayed her in the first place. The two girls stood on either side of Jessica and, as a trio, marched to the gymnasium.

Man, what was their problem?


	2. Arachne

The gymnasium was silent except for the scratch of pens and the ticking of the clock. Rows and rows of students sat silently, their heads bowed over their examination booklets. My copy of the exam must have been the last through the mimeo, for the letters were distorted almost to illegibility. My neck hurt from hunching over for hours, but I dared not stretch. Proctors roamed the desks, their eagle eyes searching for cheaters. Someone had already been kicked out about an hour in for having concealed a cheat sheet in the lining of his uniform. That made him a One, for sure.

To make things worse, my nervous bellyache had turned into tortuous cramps. I clenched down as a stabbing pain lanced through my gut. The tremor dislodge a bead of ink from my dip pen, which splattered on my examination booklet, obscuring my explanation of how to calculate the area of a trapezoid. In my haste to blot it out before the ink spread to the sheets below, I lost control of my butt muscles.

PTTB. A huge fart ripped through my bowels, followed by a stink like the opening of the gates of hell. The sound echoed through the silent gym. I held up my copy of the test like a shield, but the damage was done. You could track the spread of the noxious gas by the sniffs and disgusted snorts of the students, spreading out with me as the epicenter. I knew I shouldn’t have drank that disgusting smoothie.

“Morty Smith, is there a problem?” A shadow fell over my desk. It was Mr. Cragg, the geography teacher with a face consisting of mostly jaw.

“S-sorry, Mr. Cragg,” I stuttered, “C-can I go to the bathroom?” Mr. Cragg frowned, like I might be trying to cheat. Just then, another fart ripped through my bowels, accompanied by some ominous spattering sounds.

“Fine,” he said. “But you won’t get extra time.” I closed my examination booklet and covered it with the question packet. I walked with short steps, clenching my buttcheeks together. Over there was Jessica, still diligently working on her packet. Julia, on the other hand, was taking a nap on her desk. As I passed Jennifer, she covered her examination book with her body, like she was afraid I would cheat off of her. As if. I had more important things to be worried about, like preventing my rectum from exploding.

***

I hobbled my way through the empty halls, with my butt-cheeks clamped shut to prevent any leakage. My shoes squeaked loudly in the deserted halls. As soon as I spotted the bathroom, I burst into a run, slamming the stall door open and ripping my pants off. I relaxed my rectum and unleashed the floodgates. Good thing there was nobody else in the bathroom to hear the terrible explosions coming out of my ass.

I squeezed until I was lightheaded with the effort, like I was trying to get the last bit of toothpaste out of the tube. When I was satisfied that my bowels were clear, I wiped off, then flushed. The ancient plumbing sputtered and sloshed around the brown sludge in the bowl. Well, it wasn’t my problem anymore.

I rinsed off my hands and walked out with lightened spirits. The pain, the exertion, the relief, combined into an ecstatic high, like I’d just finished a race. No test could defeat me now!

I was just turning back to the gymnasium when a sob burst out of the girl’s bathroom. Then a voice:

“I thought we were partners. Why—” the voice cracked. It was May. Had she been here this whole time? I paused at the entrance. “No, I’m not going to be reasonable!” May burst out, replying to nobody. “That’s your favorite word and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of all of it!” May continued the one-sided conversation. I held my breath, listening, but I couldn’t hear a breath from who she was talking to. Had May gone crazy? “No, I won’t! You, Jessica, everyone, you’re all so heartless!” She screamed, the sound echoing strangely on the tiled walls. The lights in the hallway flickered.

“May?” I asked. “May, are you okay?” No response. This could be bad. I toed the threshold to the girl’s bathroom. Should I go in? It would be safer to run back to the gym and get a proctor, but what if May was hurt? A gust of air picked up at my back, blowing into the bathroom. Something was very wrong.

“Hey, it’s me, Morty. I’m coming in. Don’t freak out, okay?” I held my breath and took a step into the girl’s bathroom, half-expecting sirens to burst out of the walls and alert the world to my transgression. Nothing. I exhaled and moved past the twist in the wall that blocked the room from view.

The girl’s bathroom looked pretty much the same as the boy’s, minus the urinals. Same fluorescent lighting, same scuffed walls, same half-erased graffiti. All the stall doors were ajar except for the last one. A hand sprawled from beneath the door, a wrist covered in bracelets. May.

As I stepped towards her, another gust of wind blew at my back, this one stronger, pushing me deeper. With each step, the temperature dropped, until I was shivering, the hairs on my arms standing up.

“May?” I knelt at the foot of the last stall and touched May’s hand. It was clammy and cold, like she’d just been making a snowball. I crawled under the stall and found myself next to May’s body. She didn’t resist at all as I propped her up into a sitting position against the wall. Her face was a mask of anguish, tears frozen to her cheeks. Her fingers clutched a green scrap of string.

“Say something?” I shook her by the shoulders. Her head fell limply back and forth. No pulse. Nothing.

Her chest glittered with thousands of tiny shards of—ice? I traced my finger through the glitter, only to have it cut into my fingers. No, she was covered in broken glass, surrounding the empty socket of her pendant necklace. What could have happened to her? She was talking just a minute ago. It was like she’d just dropped dead.

Something pressed into my thigh from the side. I looked over to see a cat, or at least, a creature the size of a cat. It had a hand-like appendage sprouting from each ear, and a bushy, fox-like tail. Its fur was snow-white, except for a sharp red oval on its back. The creature gazed at me with beady red eyes.

“What’s a cat doing in here?”

<<I’m not a cat,>> said the same high-pitched voice. <<I’m Contact Unit BY0473. CU-BY, for short.>>

“Kyubey?”

<<Close enough.>> The thing’s voice sounded in my head, but its mouth didn’t move at all. <<It’s a pleasure to meet you, Morty Smith.>>

“How do you know my name?”

<<I know many things. For example, you’d better run, before the familiar gets you.>>

“There’s nothing familiar about any of this.”

Kyubey looked up, and I followed. There, on the ceiling, was a massive clump of yarn, a dense central body surrounded by rope-like legs that clung to the tiles. How the heck had I missed that?

Eight button eyes glinted in my direction. A flash of silver. I jerked back as a needle the length of a kitchen knife stabbed into the tiled ground. Holy shit! I slid back under the stall, leaving May’s body to the yarn spider’s predations. I needed an adult. Or a really big lint roller.

I bolted out the door, hooked my hand on the door frame, and headed straight for the gym, an ominous rustling noise behind. In only a few strides, I should see the big double doors—but the hallway grew longer the more I ran. The lockers on either side stretched and smeared until they turned flat like drawings, with block edges and scribbled-in colors. I reached for a door handle, but it smeared in my hand like grease paint. A blur of white bounded besides me—Kyubey, running, with its tail bouncing up and down like a squirrel’s.

“What’s going on?” I panted.

<<You’re in a labyrinth, a warped space where a witch traps its victims.>> The cat creature commented cheerily. <<An ordinary human can’t escape it.>>

“Gee, you could have told me earlier!” My lungs were burning. I wasn’t much of a sprinter.

<<This way!>> Kyubey made a sharp turn to the left, down a flight of stairs. I caught myself on the guard rail just in time and flung myself down, nearly tripping over my feet. Behind me followed ominous shuffling noises, like a serial killer wearing socks. At the bottom of the stairs, a push-bar door and an exit sign. The sign winked a welcome red before being pierced through by a needle. The thread grew taut. Shit, the yarn spider was pulling itself forward—

I slammed the door open and stumbled through. Kyubey hopped through, right before I pushed the door shut. A muffled clatter sounded on the other side, then nothing. I held the door firm, but there was no great blow, no percussive force blowing past my meager strength. Safe.

I turned around, only to discover that I was not outside, as I had hoped. The room I was in looked like a craft store crossed with a junk shop, with a touch of giant’s parlor. Tall shelves formed the walls, each compartment overflowing with jars of bric-a-brac, rags, ribbons, yellowed magazines and empty bottles. The excess formed the ground, a springy carpet of yarn scraps and wisps of stuffing. In the middle, reigning over the rag picker’s paradise was a giant rag doll, sewing shut a teddy bear with a needle the size of a sword.

<<Arachne, the crafting witch with a hoarding nature>> said Kyubey, answering a question I hadn’t asked. <<She adores finding lost things and fixing them up. Of course, some things would rather remain broken.>>

Something wrapped around my ankle and tugged. I looked down; it was a piece of yarn from the scrap piles, coiling around me like a snake. I kicked my trapped foot, sending a tremor through the spongy ground. More yarn slithered towards me, attacking my legs, my arms.

“Help, someone! I’m being attacked by leftover craft supplies!” I shouted. The yarn pulled taut and I fell to my back in a spread-eagle position. “Kyubey, do something!”

<<I’m not much of a fighter,>> said Kyubey, deftly dodging the grasping yarn. <<But I can give you the power to defeat the witch.>>

“Then do it!” Kyubey hopped onto my chest.

<<Make a contract with me,>> they stated, staring straight into my soul with their beady eyes. <<I’ll grant you one wish, in return for the power and the duty to fight witches.>> 

“Yeah, sure, just do it!”

<<Excellent.>> One of Kyubey’s ear-hands reached towards my face, the other reached behind. The red oval on their back slid open, revealing a shining glass orb. Kyubey scooped up the orb and pressed it to my heart. <<So, what is your heart’s desire, Morty Smith? Chose wise—eep!>> Their words were interrupted by a hand appearing suddenly out of a green portal, grabbing Kyubey by the tail. <<What—>> The hand pulled Kyubey into the portal, which vanished as soon as it appeared.

“I-wish-I-wasn’t-going-to-be-killed-by-an-animated-craft-hoard!” I shouted in one breath. There was no sprightly telepathic voice, telling me what to do. “Hello?” I tugged against my bonds. The glass orb rolled off my chest and was eaten by the floor beneath. “My wish!” I flopped back against the ground. Could this day get any worse?

The ground vibrated, first gently, then with more and more amplitude. A massive teddy bear with one missing eye walked towards me, each step deliberate and elephantine. In one paw, it held a red plush heart. In the other, a pair of sharp scissors.

I tugged against my bonds, but the more I pulled, the tighter they got, until my hands were numb and purpling. My struggles only attracted the attention of more yarn spiders, which circled me, sheathing and unsheathing their needles. So, this is how I was going to go. Killed by a Build-a-Bear reject. The bear raised its paw to strike. I closed my eyes, turning my head to the side.

Thwang! Light burst through my closed eyelids. I opened them to see that a glowing arrow was sticking out of the bear’s missing eye. More arrows flew into the bear, until it was stuck full as a pincushion. The bear fell backwards, with a solid whump.

“Morty, what are you doing here?” I looked up and saw Jessica. Or, more accurately, I saw her panties, since she was wearing an incredibly short skirt. Blood rushed to my face. “It’s dangerous for normal humans to be here.”

“Tell me about it.” Jessica helped me up. The rest of her outfit was even more bizarre. Her top was a skin-tight white leotard with puffy sleeves and angelic wings sprouting from her back. In her hand, she clutched a shining bow. “What are you doing here? You’re in danger too.”

“I can take care of myself.” She pulled back the string of her bow. A glowing arrow appeared in the string, then flew forward into the center of a yarn spider. The monster dissolved into yarn and buttons. “After all, I am a magical girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration by Vanilla (https://vanilla-sinner.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Don't forget to comment!


	3. The Price of Magic

With a flick of her bow, Jessica sent a barrage of arrows into the rest of the spiders, destroying them instantly. If I thought she was on another level before, she was a god now. None of the yarn monsters could touch her. She floated above them all like an angel of death.

“—get you to safety! Morty!” Jessica shouted, snapping me back to earth.

“Huh?” I shut my gaping mouth. “Oh yeah.” Jessica pulled at the yarn holding me down. I was so lightheaded by her presence, I was practically numb. Or maybe that was just the shock.

“Uhrg, this stuff is tough,” Jessica muttered, straining at the yarn.

“Don’t get distracted.” It was Jennifer, now wearing a blue qipao. “He’s not a priority.”

“I can’t do that!” Jessica crouched over me protectively, which incidentally put her chest right over my face. “It’s too dangerous, he’ll die for sure.”

“And a lot more will die if that witch finds the gym.” Jennifer pointed at the rag doll with an ornate dagger that magically appeared in her hand. “Leave him. He’ll make a great snack.” Jessica made an unhappy noise.

“Oh, that Jenny, such a joker,” said Julia, throwing her arm over Jennifer’s shoulder. She was now wearing a smart military jacket that flared outward into a skirt. “Come on, Jen-Jen, cut the new girl some slack. Literally,” she snorted.

“Fine.” Jennifer tossed a dagger a hair’s breadth away from my neck. I flinched, instinctively. “Don’t move.” I shut my eyes and clutched the ground, feeling the air whoosh around my body from the blades. The constricting pressure of the ropes vanished. I opened my eyes to a picket fence of daggers tracing my body. I sat up carefully, trying not to nick myself. I pulled out one of the daggers to give myself a weapon to defend myself with. Under closer examination, I realized the dagger was actually a letter opener and didn’t even have a crossguard. It vanished before I could use it.

“Show off,” said Julia. “I’m magic too, you know. Topside, now!” Jessica hooked her arms under my elbows and zipped us straight up while Jennifer jumped two stories in one bound. Julia slammed her fists into the ground, the shock wave unraveling the yarn spiders that were creeping in on us. Jessica deposited me on a shelf twenty stories tall, far away from the action.

“Stay out of trouble, okay?” She then flew back into the fray, leaving me stuck between a jar of marbles and a can of paint.

From my vantage point, the three girls were glorious sparks, burning toy enemies. A golden shock wave shredded the ambulatory yarn, leaving the path clear for Julia and Jennifer to sprint towards the witch. Jessica flew support, keeping the path clear from any stray spiders.

Julia leapt up and put the whole weight of her body behind a massive blow to the witch’s torso. The witch took a step back. She followed with a flurry of jabs, enhanced by magic, that paralyzed the witch, although its cloth body absorbed the blows without damage. Jennifer vaulted over the both of them and dragged a dagger down the witch’s back, tearing through the cloth. Red yarn burst from the wound like blood, knocking Jennifer away like a stream of water. After taking care of one girl, the yarn twined together, forming a bouquet of limbs that blocked Julia’s blows.

I couldn’t sit back and let that witch kick their butts. My gaze fell upon the jar next to me, containing marbles the size of cannon balls.

“Bring that witch over here, I’ve got a plan,” I shouted to the girls. I squeezed behind the jar and pushed. It was the heaviest thing I’d lifted in my life, and I had to kick my feet against the back of the shelf to get any leverage. The jar shifted forward, ever so slowly. I slammed into the jar, jostling it inch-by-inch towards the edge. Finally, the bottom began to tip up. I lifted up the bottom and helped gravity send the marbles tumbling downwards.

“Look out below!” I shouted. The three girls paused for a second, just to watch the bright avalanche of death. The marbles fell, down, down—

—And landed in the middle of a cluster of yarn spiders, smashing them flat. Score! That was one less thing for the girls to worry about. But as I continued watching, the yarn writhed under the marbles, individual strands standing up and winding together to cover the sphere’s surface with a net. A strand reached out and pulled the marble forward, sending it clattering to the bottom of the pile. In fits and jerks, the newly formed marble spider pulled itself towards the witch.

Jessica fired an arrow at the marble spider’s core, but unlike the yarn spiders, the arrow bounced off the hard glass. Arrow after arrow hit the marble, but they didn’t even scratch the surface. The marble spider continued forward, implacable. When it was a few meters away from the witch, it shot a limb at Julia, wrapping around her leg. Before she could react, she was tossed into the air, headed straight for a shelf.

A flash of silver. The yarn around Julia’s leg snapped, sliced in two by a dagger summoned in midair. Jessica swooped over and caught Julia before she fell, depositing her on my shelf. Then she flew into my face, her eyes flashing anger.

“What the heck did you just do?”

“I-I’m sorry, I was only trying to help.” Julia tore the yarn from her ankle.

“You call this help?” She pulled the yarn tight between her hands, like a garrote. I swallowed. “I’ll show you help—”

“Don’t get distracted,” said Jennifer, appearing out of nowhere. “We can deal with him after we defeat that witch. In the mean time, I’m sure Morty has learned his lesson about meddling in magical girl business.” She looked pointedly at me. “He’s going to be a good boy and sit quietly for the rest of this fight, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I squeaked.

“Good.” Jennifer turned to the others. “We have to end the fight quickly, before the reinforcements overwhelm us. Julia can stun the witch, and I can cut it, but it doesn’t seem to be damaging the witch. Have we seen any clues in the labyrinth of what its weakness might be?”

“When the familiars attacked Morty,” Jessica said, “they wanted to cut him open and stuff a cloth heart inside. Could that be a clue?”

“Of course it had to be heart,” muttered Jennifer. She thought for a moment and clapped her hands. “Alright, girls, I have a plan. You two start with a Meteor Strike, then I’ll follow with a Jack the Ripper. Jessica, I’ll need you to deliver the finishing blow.”

“Can do!” Jennifer leapt off the balcony and vanished, mid-stride. Jessica scooped up Julia and flew higher and higher, until they were a barely-visible speck. Then that speck grew, a comet with a golden aura, Julia falling with her fist outstretched, aimed at the witch. She crashed with an explosion of force, enough to rattle the shelf I was on and shatter the glass jars around me.

The Witch onto its back, its blood red limbs lying still. A dagger, held by an invisible hand, slashed up the witch’s belly, splitting it in two. More daggers pinned the wound open, like a flayed frog in a dissection. Inside the witch, beneath the nest of writhing red yarn, was a bloody human heart.

Jessica hovered above the witch, her bow drawn taut as my nerves. A ball of green energy gathered at the tip of her arrow. She let go, and a streak of light shot straight through the heart of the witch.

The heart clenched once more, then stilled. All around me, the witch’s labyrinth dissolved like a bad dream. The remaining yarn spiders fell limp, then the strands themselves unraveled into nothing. The shelf under my feet grew translucent, and finally immaterial. For a brief, sickening moment, I fell, although only about a foot before landing on my butt on the hard tile floor of the girl’s bathroom.

Space itself, stretched beyond its limits by the witch’s power, shrank back to its former dimension, bringing the three girls into the restroom with me. Jessica drifted down like an angel visiting earth. As soon as her feet touched the ground, her outfit vanished in a flash of light, leaving her in her normal school uniform. The other girls, too, returned to their school uniforms. The only evidence of the battle was my pounding heart. It was over. It was finally over.

I exhaled, letting my tension go with my breath.

“Holy shit, I’m alive.” The tile floor was cool and reassuringly solid beneath my hands. “Thank the Law.”

“All in a day’s work for the J-Crew,” said Jessica.

“I thought we were the Jolly Jawbreakers,” said Julia.

“We’re registered as the guardians of Region Three’s capitol,” said Jennifer, distractedly. She scanned the ground, looking for something.

“That’s lame,” declared Julia. “We need a name that will strike fear into our enemies! Even though they mostly don’t talk.”

“It’s accurate. Ah, here it is.” Jennifer reached down and picked up some kind of glass sphere.

“But that was amazing! You were flying and shooting arrows and-and magic is real! I can’t believe it!”

“Then don’t,” said Jennifer. “It’s better for everyone if you forget this ever happened.” She pulled a stray hair back into her bun, removing any trace of the battle.

“I can’t just do that. I mean, I owe you for saving my life. There’s gotta be some way I can help.”

“What are you going to do, fart the witches to death?” scoffed Julia.

“I dunno, I could bring snacks, or-or water bottles,” I babbled. “My dad has a car—

“So does mine,” interrupted Jennifer, “with a chauffeur as well. Face it, kid, you’re dead weight.”

“Speaking of dead weight,” said Julia, “looks like we’ve got some cleanup to do.” She opened the bathroom stall, revealing May’s lifeless body. Her frozen tears had melted into fresh tracks that shone wetly. Jessica gave a strangled cry.

“May!” Jessica pushed past Julia to kneel at the body’s side. She hesitated for a second, reluctant to touch. Then her fingers found the empty socket of May’s pendant necklace. “Oh god. Why? I don’t—you didn’t have to fight the witch alone, I would’ve skipped the test to help you.”

“Jessie, baby, calm down,” said Julia. “Why don’t you step away and we’ll take care of your classmate—” Jessica’s eyes alighted on the green friendship bracelet still clutched in May’s hand. She picked up the string, wringing it in her hands.

“It’s my fault,” Jessica said in a hysterical whisper. “I should have just taken the bracelet, damn the rules. And now she’s gone!” Her voice cracked. The gem on her bracelet was dimming visibly, becoming the putrid green of a rotting corpse.

“Aw crap.” Julia looked to Jennifer in panic. “We gotta do something—” Quick as a flash, Jennifer slid past her, kneeling next to Jessica. 

“There, there. It’s not your fault.” One hand she placed on Jessica’s shoulder, the other tapped the glass orb against the darkened gem. Visible darkness swirled out of Jessica’s gem into the glass orb. “It’s the fate of all magical girls to fall in battle, but don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

Something wasn’t right about that statement. I hadn’t heard any sign of a struggle before finding May’s body. And she didn’t have any injuries.

“Wait, that’s not—” A hand clamped over my mouth.

“Jessie’s having a rough day,” Julia said. “You shouldn’t upset her further, capiche?” If the threat wasn’t obvious enough, she also dragged a finger across her throat. I nodded yes, which was good enough for her to let me go.

Jessica was slumped against Jennifer’s shoulder, letting the other girl rub soothing circles on her back.

“Feeling better?” asked Jennifer.

“I guess,” said Jessica in a monotone.

“I know it’s tough watching your friends fall, but you must to keep your spirits up to continue fighting.”She turned to face Julia. “I have some extra ice cream tickets. You two go ahead and I’ll catch up later.” Jennifer stood Jessica up and passed her off to Julia. I had a good look at Jessica’s face; behind the tear tracks, her eyes were fixed forward and dull. She was helped out of the bathroom, like an invalid walking for the first time in weeks.

“What did you do to Jessica?” I turned on Jennifer. “Did you drug her?”

“As if I’d do anything so crass,” she sniffed. “I merely purified her soul gem with the grief seed I got from the witch.”

“What’s a soul gem?”

“It’s the source of our magical power.” She pointed out her hair pin with its prominent blue gem. “As we use magic, our soul gem collects impurity. Too much and—”

“You turn into a witch,” I concluded.

“You catch on remarkably quickly.”

“That means—May wasn’t killed by that witch. May was that witch. You killed May!”

“May died when she turned into that witch. We merely put down a rabid dog.”

“But you bullied May until she turned in the first place. That’s just murder with extra steps.”

“It’s her fault for not keeping an extra grief seed around.” She examined the grief seed, which was now completely dark, with distaste. “Kyubey?” She called out, but there was no response. “Hmm. It’s not like them to disappear when there’s a grief seed around.” Kyubey had disappeared through that mysterious portal in the witch’s labyrinth, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “I will have to give it to him later.” She put the grief seed in her pocket for safekeeping. “Now there’s the matter of the body.”

“Are you going to get rid of it?” I had the briefest image of Jennifer chopping up the body and flushing it down the toilet.

“No, a disappearance would only lead to an investigation. I can hide it in plain sight.” Jessica bent down and removed May’s lanyard rope. She stood on the toilet seat and tied the rope around an exposed pipe to form a noose. “Test anxiety claims another victim,” she said in a dramatic tone. “The poor girl was so sure she would fail that she decided to spare herself the humiliation.”

“That’s terrible! We have to tell everyone the truth!”

“They won’t believe you. Or even comprehend it, because of the glamour.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m alive, and that’s all that matters. Now,” she snapped her fingers, “Hand me the body.” I dared not refuse. May’s body was limp and heavy. I dragged her over by her armpits, then hoisted her up to Jennifer’s reach. She lifted up the corpse with a single hand and tucked the noose around the head, before letting go. May’s feet dangled a foot above the ground, gently swaying.

Jennifer stepped down from the toilet and examined her handiwork, brushing down the corpse’s skirt, making sure the collar was just so. When it came to May’s face, still contorted in pain, she looked straight into the eyes. Was it my imagination, or could I detect the faintest quiver in Jennifer’s eye? Could her heart of ice still be melted? But the moment passed as soon as it came, as Jennifer adjusted May’s eyelids a hair wider, and pulled her tongue out to better simulate strangulation.

I turned away, but the ghastly scene was also reflected in the mirror. My throat clenched. I couldn’t stay any longer. Without being dismissed, I hurried out of the room, fist pressed to my mouth as if that could quell my nausea. I’d just turned to the exit when I bumped into a group of girls entering the restroom. They screeched in horror.

“Eek! There’s a boy in the girls’ bathroom!”


	4. What Lurks Below

“So, how did Placement Day go?” Mom asked. I shoved a piece of leftover pancake lasagna into my mouth to buy time. Lets see, I found the dead body of my classmate, got sucked into a pocket universe full of monsters, found out that my crush was a magical girl, realized that magical girls turn into horrifying monsters, and got caught leaving the girl’s restroom. And, I never finished the Placement Exam. I swallowed.

“It was fine.”

“Did they give you that question about the two trains meeting in the middle?” asked Dad. “That one’s a bit of a mind-blower.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I toyed with a piece of pancake. Mom seemed to pick up that something was amiss. She placed a hand on my arm.

“Morty, even if you didn’t score well, you know we’ll still love you, right?” said Mom.

“Lighten up, Beth. The test hasn’t even been graded yet.” How were they going to grade an incomplete test? I’d have finished just fine, if I hadn’t stuck my nose into the girl’s bathroom. Dad ruffled my hair. “All you need to worry about is how many fish we’ll catch. Guess who won the lottery for a cabin next to Lake 513?”

“That’s great, Dad,” I said without meaning it. Mom frowned.

“Isn’t that in the district where a sewage main broke? I hear that’s why we don’t have any fish rations this month.” Dad scoffed.

“They’d close the cabins if that was the case. Ooh, according to the brochure, there’s a fair nearby! You’ll love the spinning rides.”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, umm, I’m gonna bring some food to Rick,” I said, excusing myself from the table. I couldn’t handle pretending to be happy about a vacation I didn’t deserve.

“Try to get him to come with us,” asked Mom. “He needs a break too.”

“Hello, Rick?” I rapped the basement door. “Dinner’s ready.” Rick replied with a mumbled grunt. I tiptoed down the steps, holding the plate with both hands.

When Rick moved into the basement, he turned the dusty old storage space into his room-slash-research-lab. The majority of the room was taken up by yellow toxic storage cabinets, stacked to the ceiling. Oddly, most of them were welded shut, as if Rick had no intention of ever opening them. Strange metal boxes with dials and blinking lights took up the rest of the space, leaving only a few square meters to walk around in. Rick’s bedroll was laid flat in the half-meter space between the top of the largest box and the ceiling, where he could sleep using cobwebs as an eye mask. A shelf of tools lay within easy access of a chest freezer, the top of which Rick had repurposed as a work bench. Rick was bent over a table with his back towards me, working on some mysterious project.

“Just stick it with the rest.” Rick said, without turning around. He tossed a hand backwards in the vague direction of a filthy cabinet piled high with dirty plates. I perched my plate on top of the plate from breakfast, the newest layer in a geological strata of meals being slowly colonized by mold.

“We’re going to the lake, and Mom wanted to know if you were coming.”

“No can do, Morty, too busy.”

“What are you working on?” I squeezed between the sharp edges of a cabinet to get a better look.

“Just dissecting a contact unit that I caught today,” Rick said casually, as he held up a small pair of surgical scissors. Lying in a metal baking pan in front of him was a cat-like creature with white fur.

“Kyubey?” I gasped. I blinked, not quite believing my eyes. No, those were definitely extra limbs coming out from the ears. How had they ended up here? Kyubey’s head was tilted towards me, eyes staring glassily in my direction. “What are you doing to Kyubey?”

“So it did break the glamour,” Rick commented. “But I would have detected it if you contracted—”

“Answer me, Rick.” Kyubey wasn’t moving. First May, now this—I balled my hands into fists. “Did you kill Kyubey?” Rick put down his tools and stood to his full height, which was about a head taller than me. He had height, age, and strength on his side, but I had parents who could kick him out of the basement.

“Let me clear things up—” Rick began.

“Murderer!” I threw a fist at Rick, who caught it easily. Before I could react, he twisted my arm around my back and slammed my head into the chest surface. “Let go of me,” I kicked with my feet, but Rick held me down with a solid grip. “I’m telling Mom!”

“Just shut up and listen. The contact unit isn’t dead, I just took out its batteries.” The shock of that statement stopped me cold. Kyubey had batteries?

“What are you talking about? Kyubey’s alive, right?” Rick snorted.

“If you’re ready to calm down, I’ll show you.” Rick released his grip on me. I stood up, brushing the dust from my cheek. Rick picked up the scissor and sunk it into Kyubey’s belly. There was no blood, no stench of viscera. The fur cut easy as cloth as Rick made a long slit. Inside Kyubey’s body, instead of guts and slime, was rubber padding and metal tubes. “What you call Kyubey is a contact unit, a robot that tricks impressionable kids into contracting to become a magical girl.” Rick waved his hands, caught up by the passion of his rant. “Oh, it’s a slick system all right, find a kid in trouble and promise them the world for their soul. Then you’re trapped!” Rick slammed his hands on the table. “Trapped forever!”

“Rick, how do you know all this?”

“That’s because, Morty, your grandpa is— ” A flash of light enveloped Rick’s body. “—a magical girl!” As his lab coat melted away, studded belts wrapped around Rick’s geriatric limbs, covering only the barest minimum required for decency. What might have passed for sexy thirty years ago now only served to highlight the sagging flesh and flabby skin of a sexagenarian. He stuck his tongue out, showing off his bright blue soul gem tongue stud.

“Oh gross, not you too.” Rick’s leather-covered package would haunt my nightmares.

“Yes, I, too, was fooled by the contact units. I wished to escape the creche and ever since, I’ve been forced to find grief seeds to purify my soul gem, always on the brink of disaster—”

“Yeah, yeah, I already got the schpiel.” Rick stopped mid-gesture.

“Oh.” His eyes fell for a moment, then brightened again. “But you don’t know the terrible secret, that the witches we fight—”

“Are actually magical girls that ran out of juice,” I interrupted. Rick crossed his arms.

“Well, if you’re the expert in magical girl-ology, you tell me: If a magical girl wished to destroy all witches in the present, past, and future, could that wish be fulfilled?”

“Oh, uh, geez, do you really want an answer to that?” Rick tapped his fingers expectantly. It reminded me of being called on in class; I hated it because it set off my stuttering. Regardless of whether I got the answer right or wrong, I’d end up the center of attention. “Pass?”

“Why do contact units make contracts?”

“Uhh—” Rick grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at his face.

“How do you cure a witch?” In his voice, there was a manic desperation. His eyes were wide and earnest, as if he really believed that I, a fourteen-year-old kid, could give him an answer.

“I-I don’t know!” I broke away, unable to bear the burden of his hope. “Why are you asking me?”

“On the off chance you’re a magical girl who wished to go back in time to prevent a horrible future.” Rick sagged against the freezer. “It couldn’t be that easy, huh. You want to know what I’ve been working on this whole time?” Rick rapped his knuckles against a welded cabinet. “Guess what’s in these cabinets.”

“Jars of pee?”

A hand-sized green portal appeared in the air in front of me.

“Put your hand in.” I hesitated. “It won’t hurt you.” I poked a finger into the portal, which gave no resistance. Holding my breath, I reached inside, feeling a glass orb the size of a chicken egg. A chill ran down my spine when I closed my hand, like I’d been dunked in ice water. I pulled out a grief seed, so full of darkness that it had condensed into an inky liquid. The orb was bitterly cold, and stuck to my skin like fresh ice. I rolled it from hand to hand, trying to avoid frostbite.

“Don’t drop it!” Mid-fall, the grief seed entered a portal and reappeared in Rick’s hand. “There’s enough grief in this to turn me into a witch instantly.”

“Then why keep all these grief seeds around, it’s like you’re living in your own toilet.”

“Because each grief seed used to be a soul gem.” Rick didn’t seem to mind the cold. He cradled the seed against his cheek, like a memento from a lover. “There has to be a way of turning them back. There has to be. Morty, this is my life’s work.” Rick gestured to the sealed cabinets, holding hundreds of grief seeds. “To break the curse and cure the witches. Will you help me?” Rick held out his hand.

To be honest, I didn’t really want to take it. To spend my spare time with an old man who literally lived in his own filth was a tough ask. Plus, I had my placement to worry about. And yet—

I was still wearing the yellow friendship bracelet, with two names laboriously knotted into it.

“Fine, Rick. I’ll help you.” Rick shook my hand vigorously, for an uncomfortably long period of time.

“Yes! It’s just going to be you and me, Rick and Morty, hunting witches and doing science. It’s going to be dangerous, unprofitable, and morally questionable, but we’re still going to do it. 1-800-Rick-and-Morty, magical adventures for 100 years!”

“Oh geez.” What had I gotten myself into?


	5. The Terrible Twos

All week long, I tried to distract myself with fishing, boating, and trying not to puke at the rickety carnival rides, and mostly succeeded. Dad wasn’t much of a fisherman, and the canny fish left the week with full bellies from the worm buffet. The only souvenirs I got was a tan and a piece of driftwood with suggestively-placed knots. Region Three boys make do.

On the day the placement results were sent out, Mom, Dad, and I sat in the living room. Mom had been sewing the same button on a shirt for the last half hour. Dad was holding up the paper, making a big show of pointing out the latest production figures of shoes. Marvelous, simply marvelous, how well the economic machinery ran. Every cog had its role. The Tens decided the exact number of shoes the growing population would need, the Nines designed the machines to make them, the Threes punched leather and glued soles. And of course, the Eights like him were at the ready to praise the system. A book was open on my lap, but I couldn’t focus on the Hardehar Boys’s attempt to discover who had stolen a valuable truck full of cheese. All ears pricked at the tell-tale step of the mail carrier, the creak of the mail flap opening, and the definitive thump of the mail landing on the welcome mat.

Mom shut off the radio.

“Sweetie, why don’t you get the mail?” she said, each word lodging like a brick in my stomach. I searched for a scrap of paper to mark my page, as if I was that desperate to know how the boys escaped a locked basement slowly filling with water. Dad tore a strip from the edge of the newspaper and handed it to me.

No avoiding it now. Mechanically, I stepped my feet out of the room, down the hall, and to the front door, where the letter containing my fate awaited me. I picked up the fat packet stamped with the official seal of the regional government.

“Mom, do we, have a letter opener?” Mom bustled through the drawers and pulled out a paring knife. “Here.” I slit open the top of the envelope, sawing through the paper with the rather dull knife. A folded sheet of thick, official paper rested in my hands. With bated breath, I opened it.

My eyes skipped past the formalities and straight to my score. A big, fat two showed up in the middle of the page. My heart skipped in my throat. I was a Two—mentally and morally deficient—suitable only for menial work like picking trash and working on an assembly line.

“So, son, should I get your tie ready?” Rather than attempt to speak, I pushed the letter in his direction. Dad’s beam of pride changed to a frown.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” He gripped the paper tight enough to crease it. “There must have been a mixup in the paperwork. My son would never score so low.”

“Hold on, let me see.” Mom scanned through the letter, worrying her lip. “The assessments are in line with what I got from Morty’s report card. What’s dragging you down is the math score and an ‘incident demonstrating poor character.’” She turned to me. “Morty, did something happen on Placement Day?”

“Well, umm, I was just taking the test, and I had to use the toilet.” I couldn’t tell them about the witches; they’d have me committed. “And-and I guess I went into the wrong bathroom? I had to go a lot. It was a war zone in there.”

“But we ate the same breakfast and none of us got sick. Except for,” Mom turned to Dad, “That smoothie.” Dad raised his hands defensively.

“That’s a family recipe passed down for generations! I drank it, and I was fine. You,” Dad pointed back at Mom, “must have bought bad eggs.”

“Don’t accuse me of poisoning Morty—” While Mom and Dad continued to yell at each other, I rifled through the rest of the packet. There was a new ration book with clothing tickets for long, baggy clothing and hats for the sun. An ID card with my face and my number. And a housing voucher. I was instructed to pack up my belongings and move into a tenement, where I might be living with up to three other people.

“I guess I’ll go pack now,” I said.

“Hold on, champ, no need to move yet. I’ll make a call to my buddies at the scoring office. A Three! There must be some mistake.”

“Won’t we get in trouble if I don’t move soon?”

“It’s a small price to pay to get things sorted out,” said Dad.

“But I’m supposed to start work on Monday,” I said. If I ever wanted to move out of Two, I couldn’t start racking up character violations. I glanced again at the instructions. I was told to show up at 7 AM, sharp in Pyramid Park to clean up trash. Pyramid Park was a nice enough place. We’d gone there for picnics on occasion. Who needs to work in a stuffy old office when I could be outside, enjoying the fresh air, and soaking up the summer sun? Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

***

I’d meant to get to Pyramid Park a little early, but I’d gotten on the wrong bus line and had to backtrack. I sprinted to the entrance of the park as the bell tower was ringing eight. A portly black man stood next to a truck with his arms crossed in annoyance.

“You must be Morty Smith. Late on your first day!”

“Sorry, sir, I-I got on the wrong bus and—”

“No excuses, boy. One more demerit and you’ll be sent to sort recycling. I’m Mr. Goldenfold, your supervisor. Go get your bag and pick.” I picked up a thick plastic bag big enough for me to fit comfortably inside and a stick with a needlelike point at the end.

“Now, here’s how things work. Trash goes in the bag. The bag goes on the scale.” Above the scale, there was a slot for printing tickets. “If you get more than ten pounds, you get your ration tickets for the day. If not, you go hungry. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now get out of my sight.” Mr. Goldenfold went into the truck’s cab and pulled out a magazine. I guess that was all the job training I was going to get. I walked down the gravel path, already sweating from the heat.

Pyramid Park’s namesake, a giant earthen pyramid overgrown with grass and small bushes, loomed over the park. Around the pyramid, trees provided some scant shade for picnickers, although the park was empty of them at this moment. I poked around in some low bushes, but they had been picked clean of any stray wrappers and cans.

All the on-time trash pickers were collecting trash on the shady side of the pyramid. They swarmed over the park with a practiced speed, spearing trash and shoving it into their bags. There was no way I could keep up on that side. My only hope of getting any trash at all was to start on the sunny side and meet them as they came around.

After an hour of searching, I found a few cans and a crumpled newspaper, nowhere near my ten pound quota. The trash bag stuck to my sweaty, sticky skin, making me even more hot. I had to take a break. I leaned against a tree, scanning the park for anything I’d missed.

Something white fluttered mid-way up the pyramid. A sheet escaped from a laundry line? I squinted. No, it was more like a bottle brush, or a tail? The white thing moved out of the shade of the rock, revealing a cat-like body with red markings. The contact unit picked its way through the plants growing on the side of the pyramid, moving slowly under the weight of its bulging stomach. It vanished into a burrow at the base of a tree. A few moments later, it reemerged, svelte as Kyubey had been. It hopped down lightly, bounding from rock to rock. It hit the ground and scampered off into the city, faster than I could follow.

What was a contact unit doing in the pyramid? Had it been pregnant? Or just constipated? This was obviously a different contact unit than Kyubey, who was still being dissected by Rick. How many more of them were there?

I felt a prickle at the back of my neck, like I was being watched. I glanced around, but I didn’t see any people. There was a rustling sound from above me and then a large bird landed at my feet. It looked like a raven, but pure white instead of black, with bulging red eyes, the same color as the contact unit from before. It stared me down intently. Was it hungry? I tossed it a stray crumb from my pocket. The bird didn’t dive for the food, or fly away from fear. It didn’t even cock its head with curiosity. It simply stared.

I was getting pretty creeped out by this weird albino bird. I’d heard that strange behavior in animals was a sign of rabies, but could birds even get rabies?I took a step away from the bird, and fortunately, it didn’t attack me. It only turned its head to watch my movements as I walked away to search for more trash.

***

At the end of the day, the trash pickers gathered at the truck like ants coming back from a day of foraging. I was thirsty and hungry, already thinking about Mom’s dinner. I eyed the other pickers’ bulging sacks. The biggest thing I’d found all day was a broken glass bottle.

“Next!” barked Goldenfold. I put my sack on the weighing scale. The needle moved to nine and a half pounds, just under quota. “Tough luck, boy.”

“Let me keep going.” If I only had a little more trash—

“I’m not staying here all night.” Goldenfold hefted the bag, ready to throw it into the truck. Something hard and cylindrical slipped into my pocket from behind.

“Wait!” I shouted.

“What is it?” Goldenfold said impatiently.

“I forgot to add something.” I pulled an intact glass jar out of my pocket. “I-uhh, I was hoping to keep this.” The trash bag dropped back onto the scale. The extra weight from the jar was enough to tip me over to ten pounds. The ration tickets slowly extruded from the end. I tore them gratefully and got out of the way. Behind me was an older man with leathery, wrinkled skin from years in the sun. He caught my eye and winked. His bag weighed a respectable seventeen pounds, enough to get some extra tickets. The older man took his bounty and approached me.

“Thanks,” I whispered so that Mr. Goldenfold wouldn’t hear.

“Today me, tomorrow you,” he said. “Twos stick together.”

There was a commotion at the weighing station. A dark-haired boy of my age had brought a bag weighing thirty three pounds. Tickets spat out of the machine like water from a gutter. Mr. Goldenfold clapped the boy on his back.

“That’s my star picker. The rest of you shape up!” The boy swaggered away, wearing his tickets as a necklace.

“How did you find that much trash?” I asked him.

“You gotta open your mind,” the boy replied. “Trash is in the eye of the beholder.” He picked up a rock and tossed it in his hand.

“You’re throwing away rocks?” I said. The old man sighed, and shook his head.

“Bad work brings trouble.”

“Well, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life in the dirt, old man. I’ve got plans, see. You know, this trash is worth more than they pay us for, especially the cans. Once I become a supervisor, I can trade the metal on the black market.”

“But that’s illegal!” I exclaimed. The Tens planned the economy so we’d have exactly what we needed and no more. Nine billion people lived on the earth without massive famine or ecological disaster. If we could consume however we liked, we’d destroy the planet.

“I bet Goldenfart here is doing the same thing. Don’t worry, I’ll give you your cut. You scratch Tom’s back, I’ll scratch yours.”

The last of the pickers got their tickets and gathered together convivial air of celebration. One of the pickers told a dirty joke about a Ten and a Two stuck in an elevator and everyone roared with laughter. I was tired, and sweaty, and hungry, but at least I was in a group of the same. Then the bus to the Two barracks came and they all filed in, all except for me.

Alone, I waited at the bus station, cognizant of the silence. Mom and Dad meant well, but keeping me at home was only making my life harder. Until I moved into the Two barracks, I’d just be stuck between child and adult, a weird in-between state. Hopefully Dad would get things sorted out one way or another soon.


	6. Death by "Chocolate"

The next day, we were assigned to clean up the city center. Office buildings with shops at the bottom towered over us, providing a good amount of shade. We started later, at 9:30 AM to miss the rush hour. Only a few people on errands wandered the streets. I kept my head down, looking for wrappers to sweep into my bag. A mother and son were waiting at the bus stop. The boy was swinging his feet, scuffing his shoes against the ground.

“Stop messing up your shoes,” said the mother. “If you don’t keep neat, you’ll end up like that Two over there, sweeping up trash.” My cheeks burned. I wanted to tell her that I’d done nothing wrong, that it was just a freak accident that had landed me in this place. But I held my tongue. I didn’t want to cause a scene and get reprimanded for it.

The city streets were clean, thanks to the trash cans placed at regular intervals. I peeked into the opening, but it was empty. Scooped by the garbage men. At this rate, I was never going to meet my quota.

The door of an artist supply store opened, and a girl with red hair walked out. Jessica. I ducked behind the trashcan, trying to avoid her notice. But I couldn’t help peeking my head out a little. Jessica was as lovely as ever. She was wearing a long white apron splattered with specks of paint, tied tight enough to reveal her curves. She stopped on the sidewalk to readjust her packages: a large, portable drawing board; a newsprint drawing pad; and an assorted quantity of pencils, erasers, and other drawing accoutrements. It looked like she was an Eight, just like I predicted. While I slaved in the heat picking trash, she was learning how to illustrate and write copy. There was no way a grimy Two like me could hope to get with her.

While Jessica was still distracted with her packages, I made a dash for the alley, where I could hide out until she passed. My trash bag flapped behind me like a sail. The motion caught her eye, and she called out my name.

“Morty?” Oh no, I had been discovered! How would I explain my Two status to her? I ran further down the alley, hoping to lose her.

Just then, a green portal opened in front of me. For once, I was glad for the appearance of magic in my life. Rick’s head popped out.

“Morty, I need your help—”

“Yeah, sure, fine!” I hopped in blindly, falling into Rick. He stumbled back a few paces, but managed to avoid hitting anything in the cramped basement. I tugged my trash bag through. “Quick, close the portal!”

“Sheesh, calm down, Morty. Humans can’t see the portal anyway.” Behind me, the portal disappeared. Rick had just been dissecting the contact unit, its cracked head still held in place by a clamp. One of the mysterious boxes in the room was flashing red. On its circular screen, a rotating line highlighted a white blip.

“What’s this?” I asked. Rick’s eyes lit up with delight over the chance to explain something to me.

“It’s an ingenious invention of mine that can do the work of one thousand human computers! I call it, the Witch Hunting Indicator using Computational Hardware, or WHICH for short.”

“Gee, Rick, if you thought about it a little harder you could come up with an acronym with the right homophone.”

“I don’t have time for that; I’m on a deadline. Anyway, WHICH can detect the magical signal of a witch and alert me when one is born. And, right now, it’s telling me there’s a witch at the waste processing plant. Morty, I need you to fight the witch for me.”

“Me? Why can’t you do it?” 

“Me and the contact units, we’ve got some bad blood.” Rick rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Lets just say it would be real bad if I left the house.”

“But I can’t fight a witch! The last time I was in a labyrinth, the witch almost killed me!”

“Heh, you really think I’d throw you in a fight without any firepower?” Rick opened a portal and rummaged around. “You’ll need one of these,” he said, tossing me an automatic rifle. My jaw dropped.

“Rick, you can’t have this gun. It’s totally illegal!” Rick waved his hand dismissively.

“Laws, schmaws. There’s only one law I live by: kill or be killed. You’ll also need some of these.” Rick draped two heavy belts of bullets around my neck, like lethal jewelry. They glowed with a faint light. “These bullets are my own invention, a mix of physical and magical damage. You don’t even need to aim the gun; the bullets will head towards the nearest source of magic. You’ll need armor as well.” Rick kissed my forehead. A flood of magical energy rushed down my body and then my clothes rippled like they had a mind of their own. My yellow shirt descended and billowed out into a dress. Meanwhile, my pants receded up my legs until they turned into short shorts. 

“Nice.” Rick made the okay sign.

“Rick!” I tugged down the dress that used to be a shirt. “What did you do to my clothes!”

“Just gave you a little magic armor. It’ll protect you from any attacks, but it won’t save you from falling on your own ass. Also, you’ll need this.” Rick handed me a gas mask, a leather contraption that covered my whole face, leaving only two small ports to look out of.

“What’s this for?”

“I’ve run into the witch  Stercutus before and it’s got a real-really nasty stench attack. A slippery little devil but not too dangerous. Perfect for a first-time hunter like you.” I pulled the gas mask over my head. The leather hood muffled sound and limited my vision to two small circles. Instead of air filters, there were two portals that blew in sweet, fresh air. 

“Okay, that should be good enough.” Rick clapped my back. “Now remember, a witch’s labyrinth is like a spider’s web; it’s designed to trap humans and kill them. Don’t trust anything in there. Good luck!” And with that, a portal opened beneath my feet.

I fell through the portal onto a patch of emerald green grass. I stood up and looked in amazement at the lush scenery around me, like something out of a story book. The landscape, as far as I could see, was all gently rolling hills and soft grass, interspersed with patches of trees. Instead of corn, the fields grew candy canes and lollypops, and candy apples hung from the trees, just waiting to be picked. My mouth watered. I’d never seen so many sweets in my life. We got a sugar ration, but it was all carefully saved for special occasions. I was so tempted to reach over and pick an apple—

“Oooh-eee, looks like I have a visitor!” said a strange voice. A short humanoid figure in a top hat and a purple suit appeared on the side of the road, carrying a cane at his side. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Morty,” I replied, although my mask muffled my voice.

“What’s that?” The figure raised a hand to its ear. “Your name is Horny?”

“No, it’s Morty,” I insisted.

“Welcome to Putopia, Shorty!” said the strange figure. “I’m Stercutus.” It was the witch! “It’s been an awful long time since I’ve had guests. I’ll give you the grand tour!” The witch turned its back on me and began walking down the path. I was torn. I should draw my gun and riddle it with bullets, but it seemed so nice. And I was a guest in its home. Maybe I’d just follow along and see what happened.

“The most marvelous thing about my land is that everything is edible.” We walked through a cloud of flying bonbons that flapped with their wrapper wings. “Even the flies are edible! Here, have one.” The witch snatched a bonbon out of the air and gave it to me. I put a hand on each end and pulled. The wrapper uncurled to reveal a brown orb that rested in my hand. But to eat it, I’d have to take my mask off. Was this a trap? While I was trying to decide, I accidentally smushed the bonbon in my hand. Inside the nugget of brown were several pieces of corn. Wait. This wasn’t a piece of chocolate. This was a piece of poop.

I recoiled, flinging the poop onto the ground.

“Aww, you dropped it. Have another.” The witch handed me another bonbon.

“Actually, I’m not hungry.” I wiped my hand on my dress. It left a disgusting brown smear on the yellow fabric.

“More for me, then!” said the witch, who devoured the candy with delight. I had to swallow down the rising bile in my throat.

The witch continued down the path, coming to a red barn with a fenced-in yard. In the yard stood a placid brown cow chewing cud.

“Do you know where chocolate milk comes from?” asked the witch.

“The tin?” I replied.

“No, from chocolate cows, of course!” The witch opened the gate and walked in. “And chocolate milk tastes best from the source.” The witch placed a bucket under the cow’s udders. “Try it, city-slicker!” I crouched down and placed a hand on the teat. With a squeeze, a torrent of watery diarrhea poured from the cow’s udder into the bucket. I let go of the teat, but the diarrhea continued to gush out until the bucket was full. “Nothing like milk, warm from the cow.” The witch scooped up the fecal slurry with two glasses. “Cheers!” The witch tapped the glass against mine, then gulped its glass in one go. I raised the glass up to the side of my head, then quickly tossed it behind my back. The splatter hit the back of my leg and I cringed.

“I-I think I’m done here.” I stepped back, then sprinted towards the path in the opposite direction.

“But I’m not done with the tour.” Space twisted around me and I found myself at the edge of a massive open sewer. I halted right before I plunged into the cesspool. “And this here is my lake. Isn’t it beautiful?” Chunks of feces floated on the surface, along with a face-down dead body. The corpse was a jarring reminder that, no matter how harmless the eccentric Stercutus seemed, it was still a witch and a killer. 

“Ooo-wee, it sure is warm today. I bet you’re just dying to take a dip,” said the witch. 

“Uhh, no thanks, I really can’t get my clothes wet.”

“Don’t be shy, now. I insist!” The cane jammed into my back and I fell into the raw sewage. I flailed in the lukewarm water, feeling the soft turds bump against my skin. My feet hit the disturbingly-soft bottom. Something inside me snapped.

I popped up out of the water with a raging bellow and fired my gun. The bullets flew wild, but their arcs curved towards the witch, who ducked out of the way. I clambered out of the lake and chased the witch, sending a hail of bullets out of the way. The cloud of bonbons around the witch exploded into brown shrapnel. 

The witch dove into a mole-hill in the field. I shoved the barrel of my rifle inside and fired.

“Ooooh-weee, you missed me!” The witch popped out of an adjoining hole. I fired at it, but it merely ducked, reappearing in another hole. I played shoot-a-mole with the witch until I’d used up one of my two belts of bullets, but I just couldn’t hit it.

A vertical slash appeared in the air. Out stepped Julia, already transformed.

“—an easy kill—what’s that smell?” Jennifer staggered to her knees, overcome with the stench. Jessica, following afterwards, took one breath and clapped her hands to her mouth, overcome with retching. Jennifer, following last, wrinkled her nose.

“Where’s that smell coming from?”

I froze as the girls saw me. Oh shit, if they knew who I was—

“Oh great, more competition. Hey, new girl, this is our territory,” Julia smacked her palm with her fist. Apparently, they didn’t recognize me with the dress and the mask.

“Hold on, maybe we can work together,” said Jessica.

“Yes, if you’re cooperative, there’s no reason we should be at odds,” said Jennifer ominously. “Where’s the witch?” I pointed at the holes below us, not wanting to use my voice.

“I can take care of that.” Julia slammed her fist into the ground, sending out a shockwave. The other girls leapt out of the way, but I was knocked over, flashing my shorts. The surprised witch popped out like a cork from a bottle and ran towards a nearby copse of trees.

“After it!” commanded Jennifer. The three girls gave chase, Jessica flying and the other two sprinting towards the witch. I was still prone, but I had my gun. If I could injure the witch, that would give a chance for the others to tear it apart. I flipped onto my stomach and aimed at the witch. But instead of flying true, the bullet arced upwards and hit Jessica.

My heart leapt into my throat as she fell down. I scrambled to my feet, racing to her side. Jennifer leapt up and caught Jessica before she hit the ground. Julia turned on me, her teeth bared in a snarl.

“I knew you were a threat.” She threw a fist at my face. I curled up, bracing myself for a bone-shattering blow. Right before she made contact, her fist was swallowed by a portal. Another portal opened in front of her face, and she was punched by her own fist. She staggered backwards. That must be the effect of the magical armor.

“Don’t mock me!” Julia swung a roundhouse kick at me, but again, it was absorbed by a portal. The failed attack only made her angrier. The veins in her forehead pulsed.

“Calm down, Julia,” said Jennifer, who was supporting Jessica. “You’re wasting magic.” The bullet hole was visible on Jessica’s thigh, although it didn’t seem to be bleeding as much as it should.

“I-I’m so sorry, Jessica! I didn’t mean to shoot you, i-it was an accident.”

“How do you know my name?” asked Jessica. She examined me closely, her eyes falling upon the yellow friendship bracelet on my wrist, the match of hers. “Morty? Is that you?” I nodded yes.

“I thought I told you to mind your own business,” said Jennifer, crossing her arms.

“But Morty’s become a magical girl now, so it is his business.”

“Well, not really. It’s complicated—” I started, before being interrupted by Jennifer.

“Then we’ll discuss it after the hunt. Jessica, hurry up with your leg.” Jessica waved her soul gem bracelet over the bullet wound. The gem glowed, and the wound closed at incredible speed, squeezing the bullet out. I guess magical girls had super healing as well as super strength. “We’ve got to catch up to the witch before we lose it.”

“It moves really fast and it’s hard to pin down,” I said helpfully. “Also, it really likes poop.”

“I gathered as much. We’re going to have to flush it out into the open.”

“I can do that.” Julia grinned and cracked her knuckles.

“Jessica, you keep a lookout for the witch. I’ll take point on capturing it.”

“What about me?” Jennifer looked down on me like I was a sidewalk turd. I mean, I was covered in raw sewage, but I had a gun, damnit! The edge of her mouth quirked up.

“You can be bait.”


	7. Allies and Enemies

“La la la, it’s a wonderful day for a walk,” I warbled, swinging my arms with forced nonchalance. I strode down the forest path, trying not to glance to the sides where Jessica and Julia were hiding. Jennifer was nowhere to be seen, but she was around me somewhere, waiting. “But I’m hungry. If only I had a snack. I could really go for some chocolate right now,” I called out.

“Weeelll, you’ve come to the right place!” The witch appeared on a branch above me, holding an arm full of chocolate oranges. I wanted to fire on it, but the girls had confiscated my gun. “Have some fruit!” The witch pelted me with the oranges, which burst into poop shrapnel upon hitting the ground.

“After it!” An arrow flew towards the witch, who panicked and flung the oranges into the air. The arrow pierced an orange and exploded into a rain of poop that hit anyone who was standing under it, namely, me. Julia punched the tree’s trunk, sending the leaves flying. The witch leapt to the next branch and blew a raspberry at us. We gave chase, but the witch hopped from tree to tree with the dexterity of a squirrel, always a step ahead of us. The foliage was too dense for Jessica to get a good shot.

“Just hold still!” huffed Julia.

“If you’re not a fan of chocolate, how about taffy?” The trees transitioned into a forest of giant mushrooms, white with bright red caps. The witch hopped onto the mushroom, bouncing on it like a trampoline. When Julia punched the stalk, her hand sank in. She grunted and pulled, but couldn’t free herself.

I examined a smaller mushroom. The white parts were sticky, but the red parts felt smooth and rubbery. I clambered onto the top and tried a few experimental bounces. The mushroom seemed to hold my weight just fine, so I jumped to the top of the mushroom forest.

Jessica flew above the caps, loosing a steady hail of arrows at the witch, but its chaotic movements frustrated her efforts. The witch headed for the tallest mushroom, one umbrella-ed over the rest of the forest. It opened a door on the side of the stalk and disappeared inside it. Jessica shot an arrow, but it stuck in the mushroom flesh. She flew around and around the stalk like a puzzled fly, but the witch was gone. Then, I heard its voice at the top of the cap.

“Sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of.” The top vibrated, and a shower of powder fell from the mushroom gills. Jessica fell into a fit of sneezing, which propelled her backwards.

“Hope you enjoyed my sweets!” cried out the witch. It hopped off the edge of the mushroom, using its suit jacket like a hang glider. Before it could disappear off into the forest, a dagger flew through its makeshift wings. The witch screamed, and plummeted to the ground, straight into Jennifer’s hands.

“Oooo-weee, looks like it’s curtains for this lil’ poopy butthole—” the witch said, before its head was severed by a slice of Jennifer’s blade. Instead of blood, a gush of diarrhea flew out of its severed neck, spraying Jennifer straight in the face. She froze in shock. Her manicured eyebrow twitched. Then she knelt over and vomited. I was incredibly thankful for my gas mask. Even though I’d touched the filth, I didn’t have to smell it.

The witch’s labyrinth around us faded, and we materialized just outside the waste treatment plant: a large field with giant circular pools for separating solid waste from liquid. Jennifer got to her knees, scraping the poop off her face and onto the ground. The other two girls rushed to her side, but were unwilling to touch her.

“Oh dear. I should have brought a towel,” said Jessica.

“Wow Jennifer, you really ate shit that time,” joked Julia.

“Shut up. At least I got the grief seed.” She opened her fist to reveal the seed, which was magically clean of poop. She tapped the seed to the soul gem in her hair, sighing in relief as it cleansed her gem of darkness. “Here.” She offered the seed to Julia. Before she could take it, Rick’s hand reached out of a portal and snatched it away. “Hey!” Jennifer glared at me.

 

“It wasn’t me! I can’t make portals—” I said, just before a portal opened underneath my feet. I fell through, into the basement with Rick. He’d been waiting with a beaming grin, which turned into a sneer of disgust when the smell hit. He clapped his hands over his nose.

“Good-good job, Morty,” he said through his fingers. “You really beat the crap out of that witch, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. You’ve got your grief seed, now let me go.” Rick opened an unsealed cabinet containing several unfilled grief seeds and put the new seed with its brethren. I shed my gas mask. Rick waved a hand and my clothes returned to my usual pants-and-shirt combination. My eyes fell upon the empty trash bag on the ground. Oh no! In the excitement of the fight, I’d completely forgotten about my job!

“Rick, what time is it?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s four-thirty or so.”

“I’m going to be late for weigh-in! And I’m below my trash quota!”

“Is that all?” Rick tapped his lips. “I can help with that. Hold open that bag for me, would ya?” I did as he asked. A portal appeared above the bag. “Just say when.” A waterfall of trash fell into my bag, filling it to the brim.

“When!” When the portal closed, the bag was stuffed so full, I could barely close it. “Oh geez, that’s a lot of trash.”

“It’s the least I could do, on account of you risk-helping me out,” said Rick. He opened another portal. “This’ll put you back where you started.” I walked through, dragging the heavy bag behind me. It must have weighed at least fifty pounds. I hustled to the weighing station, fighting back my exhaustion. From the shortness of the line, I judged I was the last one to get there. Tom had just finished weighing his bag. “Forty pounds! A new record!” said Mr. Goldenfold. Tom strutted away with his prize.

“Wait,” I called out. “I’m almost there!” Tom’s smug smile faded as he saw just how full my bag was. The group parted around me, probably because I still smelled really bad. I could barely hoist it on the scale. The needle went up and up, landing on fifty-four pounds. I picked up my string of tickets, trying to avoid dripping poop water all over them.

“Never thought you had it in you, Morty. You better shape up, Tom, looks like you’ve got some competition,” said Mr. Goldenfold. He strained and grunted, finally getting the bag over the lip of the truck.

“Congratulations,” said Tom, clapping slowly. “Where’d you get that much trash, anyway?”

“Oh, I uhh, was scraping out the bottom of a ditch.” I said, to excuse my dampness.”

“Well, You’re the king of the trash hill, for now. But,” Tom added ominously, “the higher you climb, the harder the fall.” He joined the other Twos in the line for the bus. The string of tickets in my hand felt less like a prize and more like a heavy chain. I hadn’t meant to antagonize him. And I’d probably angered Jennifer as well. But at least the day was over, and I could focus on my next quest: taking a bath.

***

My body lay heavy in the warm water, my breath making the barest ripples on the surface. After a day of hauling trash and running around in mortal terror, my arms felt like jelly. I reached for the shampoo, but the soapy bottle slipped out of my hand and shot across the bathroom. Oh great. That was the cherry on the urinal cake. I let my arm flop back into the tub, resigned to lie there until the water got cold. My friendship bracelet drifted in the water. It was already starting to fade.

I was just a tiny goldfish that had gotten swept into an ocean of sharks. But Jennifer wouldn’t see it like that. She’d think I was deliberately meddling in her plans. Maybe she’d try to turn Jessica against me. And I’d also made enemies of Tom. He had ambitions and wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. Sure, helping Rick was supposed to save the lives of all the magical girls who’d become witches. But all it did for me was cause trouble.

A knock at the door. I sat up in panic. What if it was Rick, wanting me to fight another witch?

“Morty, are you in there?” said a female voice. Phew, it was only Mom.

“Yeah,” I said, flopping back into the tub.

“I just need to pop in and get a cotton ball.” Mom poked open the door and stepped in. Her nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell?” She spotted the poop encrusted in my hair and frowned. “Morty, what happened to you?”

“Nothing! I just, uhh, tripped. And fell. Down a hill. Into a sewer.” Mom frowned.

“Sweetie, are you being bullied at work?”

“No?” Although it was technically accurate, if you counted “hunting witches” as work and Jennifer as my coworker.

“Oh, Morty, you have to take better care of yourself. You can’t to live here forever.” Dad was still trying to get my paperwork sorted out, but the folks at the office were giving him the run-around. Eventually, he’d realize there was nothing he could do, and I’d have to move out.

“Yeah, I know Mom.” It might not be too bad to move into the Two barracks. At least I’d have a shorter commute.

Mom picked the shampoo bottle off the floor. She knelt down by the side of the bath and poured a generous dollop of shampoo into her hands.

“Uhh, Mom, that’s poop in my hair.” She quirked a wry smile.

“Trust me, I’ve touched worse at the hospital.” I melted into the water as she dug her fingernails into my shit-encrusted hair, untangling the crusted bits. For all the trouble I’d gotten mixed up in, I was still just a kid. There was a softness to Mom’s eyes, and her lips were neutral. She sighed.

“Mom, are you disappointed in me?”

“Huh?” She started a little, like I’d broken her concentration. “Oh, no, I was just thinking. This might be the last time I get to wash your hair.” That was true. I couldn’t stay here forever. I’d probably get a week, tops, before the higher-ups realized what was happening. At that point, I’d be kicked out, literally, and my parents would get a demerit on their records. “Morty, I’ve always been a good mother to you, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, Mom.” She’d cooked dinner and tutored me in homework.

“That’s good. I only wish, well, I guess it’s too late for that.”

“Too late for what?” Mom’s hands stilled in my hair.

“Well, I don’t know if I should be telling you this—” Mom rinsed her hands in the tub water. “You know that I was a shoe-in for a Ten before I met Jerry.” That came up every time Mom and Dad had an argument. “What happened was that I got pregnant.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

“I didn’t lose the baby. I gave her up to the creche, a week before the placement exam.” The creche was where all unwanted babies went. The state took care of them, but they tended to get placed in the low numbers, probably because they didn’t have a mom forcing them to do homework. “Frankly, I’m surprised I scored even as high as Four. It was a serious lack of judgement on my part.”

“So, I have a sister?”

“Yes, but all that really means is that you should check the genetic register before you decide to marry someone. I just hope I did the best that I could for you.” She shouldn’t beat herself up over my placement. I had to at least try to explain to her about magic.

“Mom, it’s not your fault that I scored low. What happened is that a witch attacked the school.”

“Sorry, what was that?” said Mom. I tried again.

“Mom, Grandpa Rick is a magical girl.”

“What was that about Rick?” she said, brow furrowed. It was true then. The glamour really did keep non-magical humans from understanding the truth about magic.

“Never mind.”

“It seems like he’s really taking a liking to you.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.” I really wish he hadn’t. “He’s kind of a jerk though.” Mom laughed a little.

“Yeah, there’s a reason he and your grandma split up. He’s just so secretive—I didn’t know where he was for years. But when he’s with you—I think you’re the first person he’s trusted in a long time. Whatever he’s working on, it’ll change the world, I know it. And I want you to be there when it happens.” Mom’s instincts were right, even if she didn’t know what was going on. Contact units were so much more advanced than any human technology. Just the telepathy alone could revolutionize communications.

“Okay, Mom. I guess I’ll keep helping Rick.”

“Thanks, Morty. Now lets get you rinsed off and ready for dinner.”


	8. The Nexus

“Don’t touch, or it might fry your brain.” I quickly withdrew my hands from the strange hat Rick was testing on my head. It consisted of the contact unit’s dissected head attached to a metal circlet for stability. The contact unit’s ear-hands flopped limply on my shoulders. After my first week of work, I had been looking forward to lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling this weekend, but Rick had other plans. He handed me a deck of cards.

“Shuffle this, and then draw a card.” I drew an ace of spades.

“Okay, I got a—”

“Don’t say it! Just think it.” I concentrated on the black symbol, the single spades card. Rick wrote something on a piece of paper. “Now set the card aside and draw again.” We repeated the process for a total of ten cards. “That should be good enough. Now, give me the discards.” Rick compared his list to the cards, a grin breaking out on his face.

“Yes, it’s working! Now lets test this out on more complicated ideas—” A figure the size of a doll appeared on Rick’s workbench. It was a black girl wearing a white hooded robe. I gasped. Was this a surprise witch attack?

Rick noticed the figure without alarm. He shooed it away, his hand passing through the figure without disrupting it. So it was some kind of magical illusion.

“Go away, Clair, I’m busy.”

“Rick, you’re late!” The girl crossed her arms. “There’s girls waiting for you.” Rick glanced at the clock on WHICH.

“Ah, shit.” Rick slammed his notes down. “Change of plans.” He started grabbing loose tools from the workbench and tossing them into a toolbox, his hands darting out with the precision of a striking heron.

“What’s going on?” I gingerly took off the contact unit hat and set it aside.

“Lost track of time, need to go to the Nexus.” Rick opened a portal and pulled out a bunch of guns of various sizes. It looked like he had enough firepower to outfit a militia.

“What’s the Nexus?”

“You might have noticed that magical girls can be pretty territorial. But sometimes it’s useful to trade grief seeds or favors. So this one girl, Jing, who has the power to create pocket universes, created the Nexus as a place where we can do business. It’s a neutral zone, so you don’t have to worry about getting attacked. Plus, there’s a bar.” Rick pulled out a large metal box with a handle. “Take this.” I grabbed it from him, then nearly fell over with the weight. What was inside, pure lead?

Rick grabbed the rest of his supplies and walked through, I following with my heavy cargo. We arrived in a long, narrow room that looked like the inside of a shipping container, with rusted walls of corrugated metal. A crowd of girls milled around the room, each holding a gun. As soon as they saw Rick, they rushed for him.

“Where have you been—”

“My gun’s broken—”

“—need more dakka—” 

“Hold on, let me get set up—” Rick dumped his tools on a wide table at the end of his room. He took a gun at random. “Now this one’s just jammed—”

“Hey, I was here first!” said a girl wearing a ten-gallon hat and a red bandana. She pushed aside the first gun and placed her own on the table, a six-shot revolver. The other girl elbowed her in the side.

“Don’t cut—”

“You’re the one that’s cutting—” Rick’s focus darted between the two guns. He would pick up one tool and examine it, then drop it in favor of the other one. There was no way he could focus with all the shouting. Didn’t these girls know how to queue properly?

“Quiet!” I shouted. Miraculously, the girls listened to me. “I’m going to give each of you a number, and you’re going to come up in that order.” I grabbed a small notebook and wrote a number on each. I handed the first one to a Japanese girl with straight black hair that had been standing quietly in the corner.

“Oh, come on, I was here way before she was,” complained the cowgirl.

“Listen to Morty,” said Rick. “He’s keeping the order.” The cowgirl grumbled, but accepted the paper. “Number one!” The Japanese girl walked up and placed a pistol on the table. “Yo, what up my homie? Where’s the GF?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” The girl mumbled in a monotone. “We’re merely—”

“Soulmates?” The girl blushed. Rick fixed the girl’s jammed gun quickly. “You need another box of rounds?”

“Yes, please.”

“That’ll be five seconds.” Rick took the soul gem out of a mouth and reverted it to egg form. The girl took out a grief seed and extracted a small amount of darkness out of the soul gem. So this was how the economy worked. I guess it didn’t make sense for Rick to issue his own ration tickets. “Number two.” The next girl came up in an orderly fashion.

“Hey, Rick,” I asked. “I thought all magical girls had weapons. Why do they need guns?”

“Some girls got the shit end of the stick with weapons. Sal, over there,” he indicated the cowgirl, “just has a lasso, for example. And you can’t just use a regular gun to fight witches ‘cause they’ll just reform. But I figured out you can just wrap the bullet in a little magic and it’ll work the same as a magical attack. Plus, you don’t have to waste the magic conjuring a weapon. And it works great for me as a way to keep my gem clean.”

“Huh.” Rick turned back to working on his guns. His ancient fingers probed delicately at the parts, extracting slivers of metal. It was kind of cool to watch, but only for a little bit. I shifted from leg to leg.

“Rick, do I have to stay here?”

“Hmm? Nah. Go wander around.” I made my way to the back of the long room.

At the end of the shipping container room, two doorways had been carved out of the metal, each leading to a short corridor. At random, I picked the right-hand corridor, which was made of a haphazard assortment of wood and sheets of metal. Dead-end hallways branched off it, like fingers. The walls were paneled with square slate chalkboards, with chalk hanging from strings at regular intervals. One girl was drawing a complicated sigil on the chalkboard. When she completed the last line, the whole symbol glowed, and a hole appeared in the chalkboard. She reached in and pulled out a grief seed. So the whole setup was some kind of magical locker-room.

As I approached the end of the corridor, I heard a familiar set of voices.

“—an acceptable vintage, with notes of chocolate and cherry.” It was Jennifer. And where there was Jennifer—

“Still can’t believe you’ll drink booze, but not swear,” said Julia. The girls sounded like they were just around the corner from me. Just my luck.

“I like to think of myself as having a refined palate. In vino, veritas.” I could just picture her pointing her nose in the air. What a snob.

“More like, verit-ass,” snorted Julia.

“Language,” chided Julia.

“Oh, come on, it’s not like we’re in school anymore. We can fucking swear all we want.” Was it just my imagination, or was she slurring a little?

“I refuse.”

“Say it with me. Fuck.” Julia enunciated.

“Fuuu-dgesickles,” There was a hint of amusement in Jennifer’s voice.

“No. Fu. Ck.” Julia emphasized each syllable with the slam of a glass on the table.

“Fuuu-nicular.”

“It’s not that hard—”

“Fuck!” shouted Jessica, loud enough to hear in the other room. The two other girls burst into laughter.

“Atta girl!” crowed Julia. Even though all three girls were clearly drunk, I didn’t want to run into them. I turned around and went down the other way. 

I came into another room, this one made of sheets of plywood, as if someone had gathered up all the spare construction materials they could find and slapped them together. A small crowd of people gathered around a table, watching something in interest. A girl in a wheelchair sat behind a bar.

“You want a drink?” she offered. “I just got in a shipment of bathtub gin.”

“Maybe some water?” The bartender placed a glass on the table and a stream of liquid flew out of a gallon jug and into the glass. “Thanks.” I went over to the crowd of people to see what they were looking at.

A witch battle was playing out in miniature on the table. The witch, a multi-limbed dragon made of ice, swatted at a blue-skinned magical girl with its spiked tail. A spike ran through the girl’s torso, and she dissolved into goo. But then, an identical girl ran up the dragon’s back, firing into it with a gun. Up above, a flying bird-man aimed at the dragon’s eye, blinding it with a careful shot. The dragon howled, and lunged blindly for the flying target, but was knocked down by a buff giant in tiger-striped spandex, who wrestled the dragon’s head to the ground.

“And here comes the final blow!” announced Clair, the illusion girl from before, now in full size. My heart leapt to see a younger Rick appear in the scene. He zipped around the field using portals, dodging the icy blasts of the witch’s wyvern familiars, then smacking them with his guitar.

“I got the frequency,” the illusion Rick said. With a flourish, he summoned a guitar pick into his hand and brought it down on the strings. A power chord resonated through the arena, shattering the familiars on contact. Vibrations ran through the ice dragon’s body, cracking it into a thousand pieces. The rest of the team gathered to him and struck a pose. “We are the Flesh Curtains!” Rick crowed triumphantly. The scene paused on Rick’s triumphant smirk. So this was what Rick was like in his prime. I clapped, the only person to do so.

“Aww, we’ve seen that one a million times,” complained a boy with a mop of curly golden hair. “Don’t you have anything new?”

“Unless you’ve got a better story, no,” said Clair. “The Flesh Curtains are a classic!”

“More like a fossil.” The boy tossed her hair back. “That Rick’s so old, I bet he’ll turn to dust from a single blow.”

“You know what they say about a guy with a small weapon,” sniggered a Nordic girl with broad shoulders.

“Don’t talk about Rick like that!” I butted in. “I-I bet he could still kick your butt.” The Nordic girl summoned her weapon, a massive double-curved battleaxe. She swung it with ease, like it weight nothing, and pointed it at my face.

“You wanna take this to the Battlesphere?” I squeaked in fear.

“N-no, you can say w-whatever you want.”

 

“Morty? Is that you?” Jessica elbowed through the crowd of people. How had she heard me? Wasn’t she was on the opposite side? “What’re you doing here?”

“Do you know this boy?” said the Nordic girl.

“Yeah, we went to school together. We just gotta catch up.” Jessica pulled me by the hand away from the crowd.

“Thanks for saving me.” My savior looked even more beautiful with the slight flush on her cheeks. She swayed slightly as she walked.

“No problem. Hilde’s always looking for a fight.” She led me towards a table in the back, where Jennifer and Julia sat. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

“Oh, you know, maybe I should stay back here,” I said, pulling away. “I want to see the next fight—”

“Please, have a seat,” said Jennifer, swirling a glass of wine. I sat on the chair, meek as a mouse hypnotized by a snake. From the amount of glasses on the table, the girls were all three sheets to the wind.

“H-hi Jennifer,” I stuttered. “And Julia.” From my position, I could see the corridor with the slate lockers. “I thought you were on the other side?”

“There is no ‘other side,’” said Jennifer. “This space is a 3D torus.”

“A what?”

“It loops,” added Julia helpfully. “Makes it damn hard to find the bathroom.”

“Oh man, you’ve got to try this.” Jessica offered me a martini glass filled with some blue liquid. I took a sip. It tasted like fruit punch, but burned on the way down.

“It’s, ahh, very strong,” I choked out. I was already lightheaded from the fumes. “Are you supposed to be drinking?” Alcohol was very heavily regulated. You could only get one bottle at a time, no matter how many tickets you had.

“It’s totally fine,” said Jessica. “I can purge it any time I want using magic. So, tell me, Morty.” She looked straight at me with over-bright eyes. “How did you become a magical girl?”

“I’m not actually a magical girl. The gun and armor and stuff, that’s from Grandpa Rick.”

“Rick Sanchez?” Jennifer sat up straight. “The lead guitarist of the Flesh Curtains? I’ve heard some very interesting rumors about him. Supposedly, he tried to blow up the contact unit headquarters and was placed under house arrest.” So that’s why he couldn’t leave the basement.

“Well, I heard he was fucking all his bandmates, not just Unity,” said Julia. That was a mental picture I did not need to imagine.

“Language!” chided Jennifer.

“So that guy’s your grandpa? That’s soooo cooool,” said Jessica.

“Yeah, but what’s not cool is muscling in on our turf,” said Julia, slamming her tankard of beer on the table. “If we weren’t in the Nexus, I’d pound you to dust for that.”

“Sorry! I-it was all Rick’s idea; I didn’t know you were going to show up.”

“Territory is power,” said Jennifer, “it’s resources, it’s grief seeds. We need enough seeds to keep our gems pure, otherwise, well, it won’t be pleasant. Our territory feeds us. And Jessica,” she emphasized. Oh god, what would I do if Jessica turned into a witch? And it was my fault? Jessica swayed absentmindedly on her seat. She didn’t seem to have gotten the subtext of our conversation.

“I’ll try to convince Rick to stay out of it. I don’t even know why he wanted to fight the witch, he’s got plenty of seeds already.”

“Oh, does he?” Jennifer took a sip of her wine. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

“Morty, I haven’t told you about my new job yet!” Jessica interrupted. “I’m an Eight now, and I’ve been learning how to draw people and stuff. Hands are so hard. What number are you?” She asked innocently.

“Uhh, I didn’t really score that high, ‘cause of the witch attack,” I hemmed and hawed, trying to avoid saying I was a Two. If Jessica knew that I had to pick trash, she would drop me like a hot potato. “Look, is that Rick over there?” Rick’s spiky blue hair rose above the crowd, most of which were a fourth his age. He talked to the bartender, who was mixing up a fabulous layered concoction. “I guess he’s done fixing guns.” I waved my arms to catch his attention. “Hey Rick, it’s time to go!” Rick came over, clutching a tall, rainbow-hued drink.

“What’s the hurry, Morty, I just got here.”

“So, you’re the infamous Rick Sanchez, of the Flesh Curtains,” said Jennifer.

“Yeah, you want my autograph on your gem?”

“No, I’m good.” Jennifer shuddered with disgust. “It’s just a little disappointing, seeing a magical girl past their prime.”

“I can still outdrink, out-fight, and out-fuck anyone here.” Rick puffed up his chest.

“Someone’s challenging your title, Julia.”

“You’re on!” said Julia. “The drinking part, I mean. Have to keep it PG,” she winked at nobody in particular. Rick slammed back his drink, then licked the rainbow off his lips.

“You don’t know who you’re challenging. Saoirse, bring us a round!” The bartender rested her hand on her forehead in a long-suffering gesture, but still propelled two tankards to the table with her liquid-manipulation magic. The crowd gathered around the table, egging them on. This could only end badly. I didn’t want Jessica to see my grandpa expel liquids out of any of his orifices.

“Wow, look at your grandpa go.”

“Aww geez, he’s not like this all the time. He’s actually really smart,” I said to her, as Rick finished his first tankard with an enormous belch. “I’m helping him work on a bunch of cool stuff.”

“Like what?” She cocked her head, like an adorable puppy.

“Let me show you. Hey, uhh, Rick, can I go home now?” Rick, halfway through his tankard, opened a portal absentmindedly. I took Jessica’s hand and led her through the portal.

“Tada! Rick’s lab.” The basement was jarringly silent after the boisterous bar. It was only now that I realized I should have cleaned up a bit before showing Jessica. The chest freezer was still covered in the scattered cards and lab notes from earlier today. “Look, here’s a machine Rick made.” I pointed out WITCH. “It tells him where witches are.”

“Our CU-BO does that for us. Oooh, what’s this?” She pointed to the telepathy hat.

“It lets you talk with your mind like the contact units.”

“And it’s even in the shape of their heads!” I didn’t correct her. “That is so cute. Can I try it?” Rick’s warning flashed through my head.

“A-actually, let me do it.” I put the hat on. Jessica clasped her hands in eager anticipation. I picked up the deck of cards and tried to focus on the numbers. A four of hearts. Oh, Jessica. I couldn’t stop thinking about her presence in the room, her faint smell, how much I wanted to—

“Morty? I feel kind of weird, is that you?” She rubbed her legs together.

“Sorry!” I took the hat off. “I shouldn’t have used the hat—” Jessica looked off to the side.

“I have a question. Morty, are you in love with me?”

“Uhh—” My eyes darted, panicked. She was going to think I was a creepy weirdo Two—The expression on my face her all the answer she needed.

“It figures.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Morty.”

“Why? You’re perfect.” She shook her head violently.

“No, I’m not. My wish was to be loved.”

“That’s okay?” The realization that my love for Jessica might be the result of magic wasn’t as earth-shattering as she seemed to think it was. I mean, more love in the world wasn’t a bad thing, right?

“But it’s so selfish! I could have wished for anything, no more rations, an end to witches, and I picked something just for myself.” She hugged herself. “Jennifer and Julia wished to help other people?”

“Really? But they’re such jerks.”

“Jennifer wished to protect her parents from a scandal. And Julia wished for super strength so she could save her family when their tower collapsed. But I only wished for myself.” She put her hands to her face. The bracelet on her wrist was darkening.

“Calm down, Jessica. Just, take some deep breaths, okay?” I needed to keep her gem from going completely black. What could I do? Then it hit me. Rick’s extra grief seeds! I opened the unsealed cabinet that Rick stored his grief seeds in. “I know what’ll make you feel better—”

White foam sprayed on our feet, hardening instantly. I struggled, but I couldn’t move my legs at all. Jessica looked up, her eyes wide.

“Morty, what’s going on?” A screwdriver fell down without anyone touching it. Underneath, there were two leg-shaped holes in the foam. As if an invisible person had been standing there—

“Jennifer?” She materialized, gripping the side of the chest freezer in an attempt to drag herself out.

“So, this was the plan.” Rick stepped through a portal onto the top of the freezer. He glared down at Jennifer. “I knew something was up. Nobody—urrp—challenges me to a drinking competition. You wanted my precious grief seeds.”

“You’re in my territory, and the seeds belong to me.” Jennifer crossed her arms, scowling.

“I tracked the witch,” retorted Rick.

“And my team did all the work, only for you to kill-steal.” Julia’s head popped through the portal.

“Lemme at ‘em, I can take him,” she slurred, before falling flat on her face.

“If you want a fight, a fight you’ll get. To the Battlesphere!”


	9. The Battlesphere

“Gee Rick, I don’t know about this.” I stood on the inside of a metal sphere about one hundred meters in diameter, with holes cut out regularly like a checkerboard. Six metal struts met at the center of the sphere, where there was a small box. The J Crew was at the opposite side of the sphere with their heads pointed towards us.

“Shh, Morty, the announcement is starting,” said Rick. He was in full transformation, and creaked with leather straps. Pouches on his belt bulged with supplies.

“Welcome to the Battlesphere!” An illusion of Clair appeared in the center of the sphere, speaking with a magically amplified voice. “Tonight, for your entertainment, we have an epic matchup, between the brain, the brawn, and the beauty, the J Crew! Versus Rick Sanchez, a veteran from the Flesh Curtains with his new protege Morty Smith!”

“We’ve got to get you a better name,” Rick winced.

“At stake is a juicy piece of prime, witch-hunting territory. Here are the rules. Each combatant has placed their soul gem at the center of the arena.” That was the box in the middle. “You must knock out all the other members of the team to win. Since the J Crew has three members, only two will be able to fight at any one time. All three must be knocked out to win though. You get five minutes to prepare the battle field and summon any weapons you need. Summoning any additional weapons or portals during the fight will result in an immediate disqualification. And no cheating! I have my eye on you.” The eye on Clair’s hood winked. “Time starts now!”

Above us, Jennifer summoned handfuls of daggers and stashed them in her clothing. Jessica summoned a quiver of arrows and Julia stretched.

“Focus, Morty. If you lose hope, the battle’s already over.” Green portals appeared all over the arena.

“What am I supposed to do?” I wouldn’t stand a chance against the superhuman magical girls. I’d splatter as soon as Julia punched me. “Could you at least give me a gun?”

“And get shot in the back? No thank you. This is as much gun as you’re getting.” He handed me a grappling hook. “Focus on staying in the arena and leave the rest to me.”

“How is this supposed to work?”

“One minute!” Clair warned.

“It’s a gun, you just point and shoot.” I gripped the handle tightly. Straps emerged and wrapped around my hand.

“Uhh, Rick, is that supposed to happen?”

“It’ll keep you from dropping it. Now get ready!” Rick aimed my hand at one of the struts.

“Three, two, one, go!” Clair dropped a handkerchief and vanished. Not wasting a moment, Julia leapt towards us with the force of a cannon ball. I pulled the trigger. The hook wrapped around the strut and I was jerked in that direction at terrifying speed. I screamed.

“A strong start from Julia, splitting up the Flesh Curtains!” announced Clair. “Look at the size of that dent! One blow, and it could all be over.” The metal strut approached rapidly. I curled into a ball, hoping not to break any bones. My thumb must have accidentally clicked a toggle, because the rope lengthened. I whipped past the strut and towards a metal plate on the surface of the sphere. I managed to get my feet pointed toward the plate, and jumped off it with a glancing blow. I skidded along the surface before coming to a halt.

“Rick and Julia are trading blow for blow.” Julia’s fists flew at Rick, each punctuated with a blast of energy. Rick sidestepped each blow with a kind of elegance, like he was dancing. I caught Rick’s eye.

“Morty, look behind you!” I whipped my head around. There was Jessica, with her bow pointed straight at me.

“Oh, hey, uhh, great fight so far?”

“I don’t want to shoot you, Morty,” Jessica said with a wavering voice. “Just jump off the sphere and you won’t get hurt.”

“Gee, I’d love to do that, but this grappling hook is kind of attached to my hand, and I can’t let Rick down.” I put my hands up in a surrender position, showing off the gun.

“Don’t make this harder for the both of us.” Jessica stepped forward and I stepped back. My heel hit air. She wouldn’t shoot me for real, right?

“You’re not really going to kill me, are you?”

“No.” Jessica lowered her bow. “But I can make you forfeit.” Now her arrow was pointed at my knee. There was a jarring screech, and the orb shook. Jessica’s grip slipped and the arrow flew wild.

“Julia uses her signature ground-pound! It wasn’t very effective.” I used this distraction to flip the toggle, sending me shooting up in the air.

“Bye!” Before I hit the strut, I leapt off it and lengthened the rope again. If I kept my movements chaotic, maybe Jessica wouldn’t be able to catch me. Arrows flew around me, but none landed.

“Jessica and Morty are playing cat and mouse. Watch out for this cat’s claws.” Below us, Julia had moved on from measured strikes into full-on rampage mode, punching the ground to send spikes of energy through the metal structure. Rick dodged straight into a hole, and for a second, it seemed like he was knocked out. But then he fell from a portal behind Julia’s head and kicked her in the back. She fell forward and rolled head over heels, her momentum sending her over the edge.

“That’s one down on the J Crew.” Rick bowed to an invisible audience. “But you shouldn’t count them out just yet!” A dagger sliced off a spike of blue hair. “Jennifer is in the fight now!”

I had other problems to worry about. I didn’t know how long I could keep dodging Jessica. An arrow ruffled my hair. I swung by Rick, who was being pelted by daggers from an invisible opponent. Rick grabbed me and kicked, like I was a tire swing.

“Incredible! Rick and Morty are reunited at last. What is he planning?” Instead of fleeing Jessica, we were headed straight for her. She realized this, and turned to flee, but it was too late. I crashed into her and several things happened: Rick released the grappling hook from my hand. His boots stamped my back as he leapt off. And Jennifer and I fell through a portal.

“A double knockout!”

Jessica took the majority of the force as we crashed into a wooden floor. We rolled over until I smacked the wall straight in the elbow with a sickening crack. For a moment, I simply lay there, dazed and disoriented. The world spun around me. Gradually, I came to realize I was lying face down on Jessica’s prone body. I scrabbled off, only for a searing pain to bloom from my elbow.

“I think I broke my elbow. Jessica, are you okay?” No response. She lay under me with a surprised expression, her eyes still open. “Jessica?” A horrible sense of deja vu washed over me. She couldn’t be—

“This is your first time in a duel, isn’t it?” said a kindly voice. A girl in a nun’s habit knelt next to me.

“What’s wrong with Jessica? We have to fix her.” The nun sat besides me.

“Jessica is fine. Her soul gem has merely been separated from her body.” I stared uncomprehendingly. “A soul gem is more than a pretty piece of jewelry.” She clutched her red crucifix necklace. “It is the literal embodiment of a magical girl’s soul. If it’s lost, the soul will no longer be able to control the body.”

“So Jessica’s fine?”

“The thing you cling to is merely a tool, albeit a valuable one. And one that merits taking care of. Allow me to help you with your elbow.” The nun gripped my arm and pressed her crucifix into it. A warm glow enveloped my arm, and the pain vanished. I tested moving my arm at the joint, and it seemed fine.

“Thanks!”

“Thank the Lord. Now, as to the matter of payment—”

“Wait, I thought you were supposed to heal me out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Everything has a price.” The nun gripped harder. “And charities run on donations.”

“I-I don’t have any grief seeds—”

“Then I guess I’ll take back my healing.” The nun reached into her robes and pulled out a spiked mace.

“Ask Rick! He has the grief seeds.” The nun contemplated this, then withdrew her weapon.

“Very well. We’ll see how your partner fares in the fight.”

We went back in the bar, where the tables had been pushed into a corner to clear out space for a large projection of the Battlesphere. Clair zoomed in on Rick, sweating and panting, with a wild-eyed look. Every so often, he’d take some flour from his utility pack and scatter it in the air.

“Rick is scanning the battlefield for Jennifer. But she’s staying out of his reach.” A dagger flashed in the air. Rick raised his hand to defend his face, but the blade sliced through his left wrist. He clutched his stump, doubled over with pain. A flurry of blades sank into his flesh. “Jennifer abandons stealth in the end game.” The blades pushed him, step by step, towards a hole. He teetered over the edge.

Jennifer materialized in front of Rick. With a wide grin, she stuck her last dagger into Rick’s forehead.

“And Jennifer lands the finishing blow! Lets hear it for—”

“Don’t count me out just yet.” Rick’s severed hand jumped onto Jennifer’s face like a giant spider. She screamed, trying to bat it off. Rick took the opportunity to swing his leg around and knock her into the hole.

“What a shocking turn of events! Looks like Rick is the last one standing!” Rick stood up straight, like the daggers poking out of his body were no more than mosquito bites.With a single mighty leap, he jumped to the center of the sphere and rescued his soul gem from its cage. He put the gem back into his mouth and then leered for the audience, sticking his pierced tongue between the V of his fingers. The other three soul gems gleamed in the padded box. Rick reached for the navy blue gem. It looked so fragile in his hand, like a glowing egg.

“Is Rick going to take a penalty?” I remembered what the nun said about the soul gems. If he destroyed the soul gem, wouldn’t Jennifer die? Rick tossed the soul gem in his hand, pondering the weight. Then, he held open his shorts and rubbed the soul gem against his balls. A collective squeal of disgust rang through the bar.

“This is not appropriate for all audiences!” Clair cancelled the illusion. Rick stepped through a portal with Julia and Jennifer’s bodies. He dumped them on the ground, then tossed their soul gems onto their chests. Julia sat up, gasping, as if she’d woken from a nightmare. Jennifer lay still, like she’d been paralyzed.

“I need a bath,” she said with a shaking voice.

Jessica, too, was sitting up. She looked to her wrist with alarm.

“My soul gem, where is it?” Rick tossed her the gem. She made a panicked dive for it and managed to catch it before it hit the ground.

“If I see any of you poking around my basement again, I won’t hold back. Now git.” The other two girls helped Jennifer up, and they stumbled away. Jennifer glared daggers at Rick before she turned the corner. I had the feeling she wasn’t going to take this loss lightly.

“Did you watch the end, Morty?” said Rick. He still had knives sticking out of his body like he was a living voodoo doll. “Was that a comeback or what?”

“Rick, you’re all full of knives. Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Not really.” Rick casually pulled a knife out of his body, the blade vanishing as soon as he did. Rick’s hand scuttled to his stump, then reattached itself. “I don’t feel much of anything these days. Heh, look, I’m a unicorn.” He pointed to the blade in his forehead. “Maybe I should keep this one.”

“Don’t do that.” I pulled it out. As soon as I did, the void healed, filling in like sand on the beach. Between the two of us, we extracted all the blades.

“How are you doing, Morty; doesn’t look like you’ve broken anything.”

“Uhh, about that—” The nun cleared her throat.

“I believe you owe me some payment. A minute, I believe.”

“A minute! There’s no way a heal is worth more than ten seconds, tops.” The nun reached for her mace.

“Rick, do something! She’s going to rubric my elbow!”

“What, just your elbow?” Rick wiggled the hand that had just been severed. “That’s not even fatal. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Rick!” I struggled, but I couldn’t escape the nun’s grip.

“I won’t pay a second over thirty.”

“Deal.” The nun withdrew her weapon. Rick withdrew a partially-filled grief seed and gave it to the nun. “You drive a hard bargain, Sister Charity.”

“I hope you’re happy,” grumbled Rick. “That’s half today’s profit.”

“Well, unlike you, I actually feel pain.”

We portaled back to the basement, which was still covered in cement-hard foam. Rick splashed some clear liquid on the foam and it dissolved into slime. He opened a portal flush with the ground and handed me a push broom.

“Push this crap into the portal, Morty.”

“Aww geez, Rick, I’m exhausted. Can’t we take a break?”

“Science waits for no man.” I couldn’t handle any more of this. I flung the broom to the ground.

“Well, screw you, and screw science,” I snapped. “Every time I help you, something bad happens to me. I could have died today! And I don’t even get a thank you?”

“It’s not about you, Morty. I have to show you something.” He pushed aside the stuff on top of the freezer. I’d never thought about it before, but the freezer looked a lot like a coffin. Inside the freezer was a dead body, covered in a shroud of freezer burn. Rick brushed aside the ice on the face. The tanned face seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“Morty, meet Birdperson.” Then it hit me.

“Is that the same guy from the Flesh Curtains?”

“Yes. Squanchy, Unity, Bird Person, they all fell, one by one. He was the only one I could save the body of. Morty, I’m the only one left. I have to bring them back.” Water gathered in the corner of Rick’s eye. I looked in the coffin and I didn’t see hope. Just a corpse.

“Rick, Birdperson is dead.”

“No, he’s not, I still have his grief seed—”

“He’s gone and he’s not coming back! How long have you been working on this? Ten years? Twenty years? What makes you think there’s even a cure?”

“I—there has to be a cure—”

“What about Mom? Your own daughter? What about me? You-you keep trying to fix the past but what about now?”

“Morty, you don’t understand, Birdperson is like family—”

“Well, I’m ‘like family’ too!” I crossed my arms. “And I’m not putting my life in danger for a selfish jerk anymore.”

“Fine then. I don’t need your help.” Rick turned his back on me as I left the basement.


	10. Daedalus

After our argument, Rick stayed in the basement the rest of the weekend. He didn’t even come out for food. Maybe he was subsisting on magic the whole time.

Monday came around and it was back to trash picking for me. This time, we were in a run-down, low number district. I couldn’t count on Rick to portal me a bunch of trash, but there were plenty of peels and rinds in the alleys for us to pick up. Of course, that only meant that our quota had been increased to thirty pounds.

My bag was pretty full of fruit trash, and buzzed like a whole hive. I held it at arms length, trying not to get any of the rancid juice on me. Another Two, Juanita, was sitting on the curb, taking a sip of water. Her belly bulged against her uniform. The sun was starting to set. Soon, it would be time for the weighing, but her bag sat sad and deflated on the sidewalk. She rested her hand on her stomach with a defeated look.

“Slow day?”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“Let me help.” I slipped the opening of my bag into hers.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t—”

“I’m just paying it forward.”

“Thank you.” I smiled as she waddled towards the weighing station. Now this was helping people. Not molding in a basement and giving guns to prepubescent girls. Now, my own bag was pretty light though. And it was getting too late for me to want to go out and find more trash. There was a loose brick on the sidewalk. I picked it up and slipped it surreptitiously into my bag. It wouldn’t hurt just this once, right?

“Good haul today?” I jumped, but it was only Tom. His bag was a lot less heavy than it normally was. Maybe he’d finally given up trying to pad his own weight.

“Ehh, it’s okay.” We came to the truck, where there was a commotion. With a disgusted scowl, Mr. Goldenfold was poking through a trash bag with a stick, releasing a storm of flies. “Clear. Next!”

“After you,” said Tom.

“What’s going on?”

“Someone’s been putting rocks in the trash. Y’all nearly wrecked a machine worth more than your lives. Open the bag.” My palms sweated.

“Actually, I think I’m a little underweight. I should go back out—”

“Spill it.” Mr. Goldenfold whacked the side of my bag and it tore, releasing a foul slurry of half-rotted fruit. And a brick.

“I can explain! I was just using it to-to weigh down my bag, and it must have fallen in accidentally.”

“Accident my ass.” He whacked me in the thigh with the stick, leaving a smear of fruit paste on my leg. “Stand here. I’ll deal with you later.” I stood next to the stinking truck, trying not to breath. My leg stung. My only consolation was that Tom was next. Given the amount of rocks he put inside, he’d get a full caning.

“Next!” Mr. Goldenfold poked around in Tom’s bag. I stifled a grin. “Clear!” My face fell. Tom hurried off with a paltry string of tickets, a lot less than he normally got. But he never filled a bag with pure trash. Had he been tipped off?

I was the only trash picker who’d been caught with rocks. That meant I got the hurricane force of Mr. Goldenfold’s anger. He shouted invectives at me, insults to my paltry pride as a Two. Then he confiscated my bus pass.

“I wanna see fifty pounds of trash from you, first thing next morning.” Spit sprayed all over my face.

“But it’s almost dark—”

“Did I stutter? Dismissed!” He slammed the door to the truck and drove off.

“Ooh, tough luck.” Tom sidled up to me, his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t want to hear about it,” I grumbled. “How did you know there was going to be an inspection?”

“You wound me.” He put his hands over his heart. “Is it ever too late for a guy to turn a new leaf?”

“Yeah, well, leaf me alone.” I turned away from him and walked away.

“Hey, wait up.” Tom ran to my side. “I do feel a little badly about you getting caught. You wanna know a secret? There’s an abandoned car in Sector Four, at the back of Lot 58. If you take the tires off, you’ll meet your quota, easy. I can take you there.”

“Uhh, sure.” This seemed a little suspicious, but I certainly didn’t want to be alone all night.

***

Every other streetlamp in Sector Four was out, and the ones that still worked had the nasty habit of turning off when I approached. The public health posters on the walls were defaced with crude pictures of genitalia.

“Aww geez, I don’t wanna stay out all night.” Where was I going to sleep? And Mom was going to be worried sick.

“Are you afraid a mean ol’ Numberless is gonna get you?” The Numberless were crazy people who’d rejected their number and lived outside the system, drinking hooch and catching small children to eat.

“You’re not going to scare me with an urban legend like that.”

“Are they an urban legend? Or an urban fact?” Tom let the question linger as we turned down the alley of Lot 58. The building that once stood on that lot had collapsed due to some terrible accident, and now all that remained was a pile of rubble. We came to the back, but I didn’t see anything except for a few cardboard boxes.

“Hey, where’s the car?”

“Sorry about this.” A searing pain bloomed in my side. I looked down. A dagger stuck out of my side. My breath escaped my mouth in a deflated exhale, like I was a punctured ball. The world blurred.

“Tom, why?” I collapsed to the ground, curling in a fetal position. With every twitch of my injured muscles, the knife dug deeper into me, piercing me through. Tom shrugged.

“Don’t take it personally. I just got an offer I couldn’t refuse.” He pulled out another dagger and held it high. This time, I noticed that it was a single slim piece of metal without a crossguard. I recognized that weapon. Jennifer’s letter opener. “I’ll make this quick.” The blade came down on me. I closed my eyes.

There was a dull thud, followed by a clatter as the knife hit the ground. Then a dull slam of flesh against brick. Tom screamed, until a wet snap silenced him. My eyes snapped open. Rick knelt in front of me, blood splattered all over his hands.

“Morty, hey Morty, stay with me.” I gasped, each breath an agony.

“It hurts, Rick.”

“Shh, don’t talk. I got you, Morty, fuck, you’re stuck bad.” Blood gushed from the wound, puddling around my body. “I’ve gotta take you to Sister Charity—” A white raven swooped from the sky, landing on the pile of rubble. “Shit, already? Come on, Morty, we have to go—”

<<PAROLE VIOLATION DETECTED,>> intoned a robotic voice on our heads. Unlike the cheery telepathic tone of the contact units, this voice had a sense of finality, like the tolling of a church bell. <<ADMINISTERING CONSEQUENCE.>>

“You’re not going to get me today, surveillance unit!” Rick reached through a portal and grabbed a pistol out of it. Before he could shoot, a white blur knocked the gun out of his hand. I looked up. Above us swirled a flock of white birds, glowing faintly like radioactive paper. Rick froze in fear at the murder of crows.

The first bird gagged, ejecting a dark circular orb from its body. A grief seed. The bird cracked the seed open with its mouth. The liquid grief from the seed dripped out of its mouth and flew towards Rick’s soul gem. He clapped his hands over his mouth, but the dark liquid trickled through his mouth. Rick doubled over and coughed, spitting out his soul gem. The once-bright orb was now purple, almost black. A crack spread through the glass.

“Morty, get out of here! I’m turning into a—” The soul gem burst, into a thousand glass shards. Rick’s body collapsed.

“Rick!” I cried, then winced as the dagger in my gut shifted. The tiny blue speck that was Rick’s soul was drowned by the dark liquid, until none of its light could escape. Then, a metal cage formed around the soul, sealing the darkness inside. Rick’s soul gem had become a grief seed.

The grief seed hovered in the air, the center of a dark form that was materializing around it. The world blurred, and I swear, it wasn’t from blood loss. I needed to get out of there before I was trapped in the witch’s labyrinth. I reached out, trying to crawl away, but the movement sent a lancing pain up my side. I couldn’t do it. I could only lie there as the labyrinth swept me up.

The ground transformed under me, becoming a thick conveyer belt that carried me out of the alley and into an insane factory. All around me, massive machines cut, bolted, and soldered metal into alien devices. Blocks of metal fell to either side of me. The conveyer belt was carrying me to a stamping machine that was pressing the metal parts into a flat plate. I needed to get away. I looked over the edge of the belt. The floor of the factory was a tangled mass of rotating gears that would crush me to pulp should I fall over. There was no escape. The dark shadow of the stamper fell over me.

But death never came. Instead, the conveyer belt reversed, and I sped away from the stamper. Was Rick still conscious? Did he save me? A curved piece of metal pushed the metal blocks, and myself, off the conveyer belt. I fell into a cart, mercifully on the top. I lay there, dizzy with blood loss.

The carts sped past an overhanging platform with a giant control panel, at which sat a mechanical humanoid with a giant dial for a head. It pulled levers and pushed buttons, controlling the byzantine flow of the factory.

<<Daedalus. The inventive witch with an indecisive nature. Seeks to make the perfect machine, but changes its mind before it can produce a single product.>> A contact unit perched on the edge of my cart. <<A shame it had to come to this. If only Rick had cooperated.>>

“This is your fault,” I managed to say. The contact unit made a fluid movement with its spine that I took to be a shrug.

<<I, CU-BO am not to blame. Rick violated his parole and the consequences were quite clear.>>

“But you contracted—” I gasped, unable to continue.

<<Put another way, if you decide to walk off a cliff, it’s not gravity’s fault when you fall. But it’s already too late for Rick. You should be concerned about yourself.>>

“Rick won’t hurt me, he—” I gasped, unable to continue.

<<That witch up there is not Rick. It is human misery made solid, with no recollection of its past life. It exists only to destroy, now.>> The contact unit stepped towards me.

“Stay back!” I pulled out the dagger, intending to use it as a weapon. A fountain of blood gushed out of me, and my arm lost strength. I was too weak to resist the contact unit’s approach. It stood on my chest, staring down at me with its beady red eyes.

<<You shouldn’t have done that. It’s decreased your life expectancy to about five minutes. There is only one thing that can save you now. Make a contract with me and become a magical girl.>> Darkness encroached in my vision. <<I can grant you any wish in the world. Perhaps you’d like to heal this wound?>> That was a dumb wish. Once I turned into a magical girl, I’d heal instantly.

“Let me think—”

<<Think quickly, then.>> It would be so easy to just save myself, but I wanted to save Rick as well. Then the idea hit me.

“I wish—” I coughed.

<<Go on.>> The Contact Unit fixed me with its red eyes.

“I wish to cancel Rick’s contract!”

<<Interesting. Very well then.>> The contact unit’s ear-hands reached towards me. Something inside me was untethered, became loose and floated out. It didn’t hurt, not like being stabbed, but it felt strange, like losing a tooth. My soul floated out of my chest, a bright yellow speck that shone with a comforting light. Then a glass orb clasped around it, turning it into a soul gem. <<Your wish has been granted. Now rise, Morty Smith, and embrace your destiny!>>

I grabbed the glass orb, warm as a sun-ripened peach. As soon as I did, the pain in my side vanished. I probed my side. I didn’t feel any wound, not even a lump of scar tissue. Light flushed through my veins, spilling out through my skin, filling me with elation, a sense of hope. My bloodstained work jeans transformed into a light pair of shorts, held up by suspenders. A sailor hat completed the outfit, cocked at a jaunty angle.

<<My work here is done.>> CU-BO dashed off into the distance.

The cart rattled beneath me. All around, the factory was crumbling, dissolving into dust. The body of Daedalus faded away, leaving behind only a grief seed. The labyrinth became the alleyway again, with Rick’s body still slumped on the ground. The grief seed floated over his head, then cracked open like an egg, dropping the blue speck of Rick’s soul back into his body. I leapt to his side in a single, gravity-defying bound. My whole body was light as a feather.

“Rick, are you okay?” He stirred, and opened his eyes.

“Morty?” His hands went to his mouth, feeling for a soul gem that no longer existed. He sat up in panic. “W-where’s my soul gem?”

“You don’t have one anymore.” Rick’s eyes darted around, searching for his precious soul gem. “No, it’s okay! I wished to cancel your contract so you’d no longer be a witch. Now you’re just a normal human.”

“No, no, no.” Rick stumbled to his feet, wobbly as a newborn fawn. He touched the wall to steady himself, but as soon as he made contact, his hand jerked back, like the wall was burning hot. He stared at his palm with dawning horror. “My wish—oh, Morty, what have you done?”

“What’s wrong?” A sheen of sweat slicked his feverish skin. “Are you sick?” Dread coiled in my gut.

“When I contracted, I didn’t just get my wish. I-it fixed me, it made me smart.” He took a step forward, then recoiled, as if in pain. “I can’t—it’s too much.” He tore at his clothing, shedding off his lab coat and pants. He stood up, naked and glistening in the streetlight. Then he began to cry. “Squanchy, Unity, Birdperson, I’m sorry. I failed.” He stumbled forwards, draping over me. I held him up, his weight nothing to me now, as he sobbed into my shoulder. When he had tired himself out, he sagged against me, dead on his feet.

“Lets get you to bed.” I carried him in my arms, bridal style, and leapt off towards home.


	11. Epilogue

Behind the curtains of a canopy bed, a girl with long black hair was reading a book. Besides her on the bedside table was a hairpin with a blue gem, stuck inside a small vase. The canopy stirred, and a white, cat-like creature hopped onto the bed.

<<Miss Jennifer, I have news that you’ll find interesting.>> The girl set the book aside.

“What is it, CU-BO?”

<<Your agent Tom has failed to kill Morty Smith.>> The girl sighed.

“If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Perhaps a poisoning is in order.”

<<That will be difficult to do. For you see, I’ve made a contract with Morty Smith.>>

“What!” Jennifer grabbed CU-BO by the throat. “That wasn’t in the plan.” The contact unit wasn’t perturbed by the threat. It continued to swing its tail lazily.

<<Morty Smith is an ideal contract opportunity. Docile, eager to please, a law-abiding citizen. His wish was somewhat peculiar, although it suits my organization. He wished to cancel Rick’s contract.>>

“That means Rick is no longer a threat.” Jennifer dropped the contact unit. “Yes, in fact, this could work to my advantage.” Her eyes gleamed with the possibilities. She reached for a sheet of paper and began writing on it. “CU-BO, keep an eye on our newest magical girl for me.”

<<Of course. As our star Ten, you have my eternal gratitude>> The contact unit bowed, then dashed off. Jennifer finished her letter and blew on it to dry. Then she checked it over one last time.

_Dear Morty Smith,_

_The Department of Placement would like to formally apologize for a mistaken placement, due to a paperwork error. Your number is officially Seven. Please report to the central Control Office for your new assignment …_

 

TO BE CONTINUED


	12. Dramatis Personae (contains spoilers)

Morty Smith: A fourteen-year-old boy. Diligent and a stickler for rules. As a result of a failed contract, he has the ability to see magic, but no magical powers. A Two.

Rick Sanchez: Morty’s grandfather. A magical girl with the power to create portals. Under house arrest for terrorism against contact units.

Jessica: Morty’s crush. A magical girl with the ability to fly. Pretty basic in personality. A member of the J Crew. An Eight.

Jennifer Wu: The leader of the J Crew. A magical girl with the ability to turn invisible. Calculates and schemes to ensure the survival of her friends. A Ten.

Julia Mann: The muscle of the J Crew. A magical girl with super strength. Has a crude sense of humor and a violent temper. A Six.

Beth Smith: Morty’s mother. Obsessed with caring for Morty as way of assuaging her guilt over sending her first daughter in the creche. A Four.

Jerry Smith: Morty’s father. Proud of his place in society writing propaganda for public health campaigns. An Eight.

May: A friend of Jessica. Enjoys crafting of all kinds.

Kyubey: A contact unit. Attempted to contract Morty before being interrupted by Rick. Was made into a hat.

CU-BO: A contact unit working for Jennifer.

Clair Voyance: A magical girl with the ability to record and project illusions. Projects popular witch fights in the Nexus. The announcer for the Battlesphere.

Sal: A cowgirl-themed magical girl with the power to summon horses. Just an infinite number of magic horses.

Tom: Morty’s coworker. A boy with ambitions. A Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character designs by RAM-100/Lone (https://ram-100years.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Here goes my entry for the 2018 Rick and Morty Big Bang. Thanks to Lone (https://ram-100years.tumblr.com/) for illustrations and character design, Schwifty (http://schwifty-rick.tumblr.com) for proofreading, and of course, Klei and Klax for arranging everything.
> 
> Story discussion (contains spoilers):
> 
> The genesis of the story is really a crack idea taken way too seriously. I've always thought that Rick's portals and intelligence were more magic than technology, so what if he was a magical girl? The dystopian setting came from thinking seriously about the implications of an alien species farming humans for energy. The original show had an extremely "airy" environment, with a practically idyllic social structure, the opposite of the way we treat our cattle. If I were trying to farm humans, I'd increase the population density to the maximum possible and keep them busy and under control. Madoka is a deconstruction of magical girls, and this story is a deconstruction of Madoka.
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments!


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